iTanglewiththeCIA
by cheddarbiscuit
Summary: "Whatever happens, I am your brother, and I love you."
1. Chapter 1

iTangleWiththeCIA

Disclaimer: I do not know iCarly. Which is fine

Summary: "What ever happens, I am your brother, and I love you."

Note: I am pretty sure this has been sitting in my computer for half a year. Maybe, if I post it, I'll finish it someday... Maybe.

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Chapter one: i May not be Me

I don't like my wierd dreams. I don't like them one bit.

I dream I am someone else, someone smart and cruel. Someone loving and spiteful. Someone with two brothers instead of just one. My life with those two brothers is aweful, because I am so horrible to them, and I enjoy it; and yet for some reason I wake up with a tugging feeling in my heart, like I am being pulled back by my chest into the past. I can be as cruel as I wish to them, and yet they still come to my rescue. They still love me and watch out for me.

And I've been having them more and more often lately.

I did not want to get up, but I could smell coffee, and heard Spencer on the stairs. I wondered why he did this, because it was Saturday, and I normally sleep in on Saturday. But I suppose I can indulge him today, after all, he is normally so good to me.

I turn over in my bed and I accidentally bump another person with my upper arm. I sit up and yelp a bit, and then realise Sam must have snuck into the apartment during the night and slipped into bed with me.

And as if on cue, she mumbles something about bacon.

"Sam!"

I don't really like it when Sam sleeps in my bed, partly because she has a terrible habbit of crowding me, so that I have to sleep on the couch. I shook her a bit.

"Sam!"

Nothing. No force on earth except for something more substantial that coffee will wake Sam up. But still, I try shaking Sam again, this time with a bit more force and speed.

"Sam!"

She turns over this time. Something is better than nothing. I try again. By this time Spencer has come in with the coffee. He looks a bit miffed to find Sam has slept over (he was always miffed) but I felt that he had something to talk about today. I could not imagine what. Perhaps Dad was returning for a while, or Child Protection Services was going to show up again. Or... I don't know...

"Let her sleep." he said. He was dressed, the kind of dressed that made it seem like he was going away for a while. The kind of dressed that... I don't know, just sort of made me sad.

"Carly, do you remember your childhood?"

Now, that was a strange question.

"Of course I do, Spencer!" I said, "I remember the house we used to have, and how you used to sleep in the attic because there was no room else where. I remember..."

Then I stopped. I remembered two brothers, not just one. that was strange. Were my dreams so fresh in my mind I could only rember them? I did try very hard to remember something with me and Spencer, but I could only conjure up one thing.

"You... had a job in a movie theater?"

He laughed, "Which one?"

"I... I'm sorry, Spencer, I can't remember much, I just woke up."

"It's fine." he said, "We don't talk about your childhood much."

He ruffled my hair and placed the mug of coffee in my hand.

"I know."

"Would you like to talk about it more often?"

"Well, I don't remember why we stopped."

He nodded and looked off into the distance, "Mother." he said, "It was because of mother."

"I was devastated, when she died..." I mumbled. But it was an empty confession. I have not got the slightest idea how I felt; but I was not about to let Spencer know that.

"Spencer..."

"Yes?"

"Was there ever a _second_ brother? Or a really good friend that lived with us?"

He starred at me strangely, but still as if he had been anticipating that question, "No, Carly. I never had a second brother or close friend. Why do you ask?"

"I been having... these dreams."

"Oh?"

"I've... got two brothers." I shook my head, "But I don't think I'm me..."

"I've got a confession Carly..."

Sam twitched in her sleep. Violently. She knocked the coffee out of my hand and onto Spencer, fortunately, I take a great deal of milk in my coffee, so he was not too horribly burned, but it did spoil the mood (and his shirt). She then sprawled across my lap and started snoring.

I love you, too, Sam. I love you, too.

Spencer ducked out for a moment to change his shirt and stick the other in the wash. I sighed and crossed my arms and glared down at Sam. She was still laying across my lap, pinning my legs down to the bed.

Well, this was certainly a bit of a pickle. At least there was no school to be late too, and no shopping to get done. Just a lazy Saturday at home, trapped in bed by my best friend.

"Come on, Sam!" I grumbled, even though she could not hear me, "You know I like to go to the bathroom when I wake up."

She mumbled something about hair-pulling and... other things.

I pushed her off, screaming partly in discust, partly in anger. Then, in my rush to get away I fell to the floor. Sam did no seem to notice at all. Sometimes she was a real pain, no?

"Is everything okay up there?"

"I'm fine!" I said, then I started shaking Sam more, "Wake up, Sam! Wake up!"

She did not budge.

"Damn it, Sam!" I mumbled as I got up to clean myself up. When I had attended to the nessicary business and emerged in my room wareing nothing but a towel, Sam sat up and stretched. Unfortunately I saw none of this, so I dried myself off and got dressed completely unawares that I was being watched, (My instincts are not too good.)

"Morning, beautiful!" Sam said at the worst possible moment, that terrible time you learn you are being watched, when you have just gotten you underclothes on, so your modesty is still fairly intact, but you are still compromised.

"Damn it, Sam!" I shouted this time, tossing on a shirt.

She laughed at me and lay back down in bed, "Bring me some breakfast, would you? You know what I like." then she rolled over and cuddled the pillow and hogged the blankets.

I sighed and shook my head, "Sure..."

Of course, when I did bring Sam her breakfast, she would be fast asleep. I had learned this, and had gotten out of bringing Sam food in bed several times. When she was ready to not fall asleep at the drop of a hat, she would get up, and get her coffee when she wanted. Sam had learned this, and was not raising a fuss about it. She just liked ordering me around.

What does she think I am, her bitch?

Do not answer that, please.

I went down stairs to find Spencer sitting at an easel he must have pulled from the storeroom last night. He had only painted a few times before — sculpting would always be his ture medium — and these few times were always... difficult times. When Spencer retreated into two dimentions, it was never a good sign.

"What up?"

He looked at me, then at the photographs laying beside him. He pretended to be rumaging around in his paints, but I saw him cover them up as discreetly as he could (he never has been able to fool me, though.)

"Nothing." he said, "I just felt the need for a change."

Oh yeah, there was trouble on the horizon, or maybe just a few moodswings and a hundred dollars or so mysteriously missing.

I shrugged and made myself another cup of coffee while he continued sketching out a girl on his canvass, and what looked like a movie theater in the background.

Then I made a second cup for Sam (beacause she had left her scotch on the counter, and I knew exactaly how she liked it) and carried them both back into my room. Sam was no where to be seen, but I could hear my shower running, and so I figured she was the cause. I left her coffee where she would see it and went back down stairs.

Spencer was starring intently at a photograph. I watched him for a while and sat down on the couch, waiting for Sam to come down at tell me she wanted to go to the movies or the groovy-smoothy, or for Freddie to come in and just sit around, or for Spencer to say something.

"Did you have something to say this morning?" I asked.

"Oh?" he looked up at me, as if awoken from a daze.

"A... confession?"

"What? Right."

He 'discreetly' hid the photographs again and sat down on the couch beside me. I would have to make a point at looking at them later, becuase we both hurt when Spencer was upset.

He looked at me for a minute, a smile on his face and his hand on my shoulder, "You've grown up a lot."

I had to fight back a frown. Was that not what _mothers_ said?

"And?" I asked, trying not to sound rude.

His frown dropped, as if he knew what he was doing was wrong. As if he had been doing bad things for years, and everything was just about to surface. "No matter what happens, Carly. I'll always be your brother, you know that, right?"

Why would he say such a thing? First he remeniced about a past I hardly remembered, then he stated something so obvious it was unsettleing when it should be reassuring. I starred at him, confused. He took it as a cue to elaborate.

"We will go through some difficult times, soon. I'll probably make a choice or two you don't agree with... You may even start to see me in a diffrent light... I... This is difficult to tell you, Carly."

"Oh?"

He wanted to tell me more. I know my brother, and I know when he is lying and with holding information. Spencer was not lying to me, he was only giving me a bit of the story. I suppose it always had been hard for him to speak his feelings when they were so important. I remember vaugely he stalled and veiled his answers when he told me mother was dead.

"In a while I will be going away for a few days. I want you to stay here and Mrs. Benson will check in on you ever now and then."

"Where will you go?"

"Just... away." he got a very distant stare to his eyes, "But what ever happens, I am your brother, and I love you."

Then he left me and continued working. I wondered why he was acting so strange, but I knew even if I asked he would probably not tell me. When Spencer spoke in vauge terms and riddles he would be doing so for a long time.

That little mischevious flame inside me flickered. I would have to apply the same tatics to find out the answers. I would have to be devious, conniving, and secretly sneek about at night.

I had to hide a smile. I loved that little other me inside my heart.

"What are you painting?" I asked as casually as I could with that evil genious tugging at a spring in my chest.

He was caught in a daze again, "Memories."

"Memories?"

I looked at the photograph he had taken out. Was it of me? I certainly looked a bit like me, except the hair was strait and the cheeks were deathly pale.

There was a second one of a movie theater that I had a vauge memory of. I remembered Spencer working there, some how, but I remembered another one with more clarity. He had always been a bit chubby, until he had gotten older, then he had lost a great deal of weight, but I remember him in a red vest, arranging candy bars and cleaning tables.

"Who's memories?" I asked, "Yours?"

"A lot of people have the same memories." he said, "If they were at the same place. Some people just remember diffrent angles."

Wow, he was _really_ bad off.

I took a step back and he started drawing another woman in the background. She was going to be carrying things, judging by how he drew her stance. I looked at the photograph he was using as reference.

She was a heavy-set black woman. I look at her and I remember a bit of a self-centered woman, that managed that movie theater. I don't know if it was true or not, if I was just making up memories, but I felt drawn back to the past again.

"Who is she?"

"I suppose you don't remember her." he said, "It was a long time ago. You don't remember much, do you?"

"No." I confessed.

"It's my fault." he said, "We should have talked more."

"Oh, don't blame you're self!" I said, "I would hardly have listened anyway!"

"... Yeah."

Sam came down the stairs, he coffee cocktail in one hand and her shirt tossed over one shoulder. Fortunately, she had spared us the sight of her bare chest and stomach (though she really had nothing to be ashamed of) by putting on a camisole.

"What up, Spence?"

Spencer did not really react so much as frustraite Sam. She lay down on the couch and tossed her shirt onto the coffee table. She was still red from her shower, her hair was still wet. She turned on the television and took a swig of her coffee.

Freddie came in with the paper, then. He looked at Spencer, then to me, "He's painting again."

"I know." I said.

Spencer did not notice.

Freddie handed me the paper, "You hear about thoes two guys..." I watched him fumble with the paper. The front page — probably the page Freddie was looking for — fell onto Sam's chest. She looked at it, and seemed to come to a sudden realization.

"Silence, Benson, you know nothing!"

"O-Okay?" he asked as Sam snatched the paper from him and tucked in under her arm, "But it's all over the news..."

He reached for the remote, but Sam lay back down on top of it. Because Freddie did not want to touch Sam, he sat down at the bar, defeated.

"I'm listening, Freddie." I told him.

"Well, two guys snuck into a military base somewhere, and stole several secret files."

"About what?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you guys what you thought..."

"Project..." Spencer started, "... Ender."

Sam sat bolt up right and looked at him. He seemed to realized he had said something, then shook his head, "No, no, just thinking about..."

He looked at Sam, her eyes were still wide.

"A movie."

"Can I watch it?" Freddie asked.

"No, sorry. I sent it back to WebFlicks. You wouldn't like it, Freddie, too... violent."

He went back to sketching, mumbleing again, "Project Ender."

Freddie imediately went to the computer.

Sam got up and looked at Spencer's latest for a minute. She and Spencer looked at one another for a moment, then she nodded, "Carly, let's go shopping."

"But you're broke." I told her.

She was acting suspitious, that was certain. Suspitious for Sam, that was. She was edgier today; and it was not the scotch talking.

She took Spencer's wallet and took out fourty dollars.

"How 'bout a movie, then?"

"But you hate everything that's showing!" I told her.

"You don't!" she told me, "Movie, then the Groovy-Smoothie?"

Oh, yeah. Unless Sam suddenly decided to isolate me from the news and finding out what was wrong with Spencer on a cold whim, she was acting odd. Sam, going to a movie that she hated? Something was wrong. Very wrong, and she saw fit to keep me in the dark?

What did she think I was, her moll?

Once agian, please don't tell me.

"Sam, I don't want you to go to a movie you do not want to see!"

She looked at Freddie, strode over to him, took his hand and slapped the fourty dollars into it. Judging from the way he cringed and jumped while screaming, she slapped it fairly hard, "Take Carly to a movie!"

"But..."

She slapped the back of his hand with a devilish grin, "Go on, buddy!"

He tried not to scream this time, but I could see the palm of his hand turning a vibrant red. Sam really should learn to control her strength. A techno-geeks hands were suited for two things: fondeling technology, and fondeling... other things. I took his arm and sighed, "Alright, Freddie, fine. Let's go."

"But..."

"We can talk about that heist!"

Sam looked back and forth from us to Spencer and us. She eventually shrugged and lay back down on the couch.

I went up to get my purse from where it usually was. I heard a crash down stairs and while I was on the landing, I heard Sam say, "Not a word about that heist, Benson."

"But..."

"Shut up, you know nothing."

I watched Freddie pick himself up and feel the back of his head. He looked at me and pretended nothing had happed. We walked out of my appartment.

"What movie do you want to go see?" He asked me stiffly.

"I wonder why Sam does not want us talking about that heist."

He looked back at the apartment door and said just as stiffly, "I don't know."

There was absolutely nothing interesting at the movie theater. Well, nothing that I wanted to drag Freddie to see after what I had experianced that morning. We headed strait for the Groovy-Smoothie instead, where we sat in silence and watched a silent Doctor Phyllis re-run.

There were two brothers talking with her, every now and then clips of them being stupid or fighting were shown. The skinnier one always seemed to wind up on top.

"Hey, you wanna buy a banana?"

T-Bo was standing at our table with at least twenty banannas on three sticks, two in one hand, one in the other.

"No." Freddie told him, "No!"

He shrugged and walked away.

"I want to buy a paper." I told Freddie, he looked at me and trembled a bit.

"Fine, but don't tell Sam."

She had spoilt the mood terribly when she had threatened Freddie. Perhaps I should make her appologize when he and I retuned to the appartment. Who was she to tell us what to talk of, anyway? If we wanted to debate what two politically involved theives stole or did not steal, that was our business.

I returned to Freddie and the smoothies and spread the paper infront of me. I looked at the composite sketches of the two theives in question, "You know, Freddie, these two, look like _those_ too."

I was talking about the brothers on the Doctor Phylis re-run, of course. Freddie looked at the paper, then to the television. There was a dark-haired girl on the screen, "And that one, looks like you."

"Freddie..!"

"No, trust me, Carly, I know you when I look at you!" He shook his head, "Yours is the face I like most, after all."

He grinned sheepishly and I blushed a bit, "But, you do agree with me?" I asked, "The theives, look the same as those two brothers."

"Yeah." He said, "They do, except, that one's a bit scarred up."

He pointed to the lazy-looking one. The one that looked like he had once been a care-free womanizer. I say once, because with a terrible scar running down his left cheek, he no longer looked care-free, or like he attracted many women.

"Small world, huh?" he mumbled, "I still wonder what they stole."

"I don't know."

I did not really care, now that I was looking at the article. I was thinking of Spencer, and how he had begun to paint again. Freddie knew it meant trouble. "I'm worried."

"About Spencer?" Freddie asked, "I am too. You want me to talk to him?"

I shook my head, "You won't get very far. You know you won't. He talks to you less than he does me, and when he get like this... when he looses _depth_... he talks even less. You know that."

He nodded, "Do you have any idea what might be troubleing him?"

"I don't know. He asked me if I remembered my childhood."

"Well, of course you do..."

"I actually don't."

He had been staring past the Groovy-Smoothie counter, but when I confessed that he looked at me, "Really?"

"I... don't remember anything. But you musn't tell Spencer, Freddie. Not right now, at least."

"How can you not remember?"

"There was an accident before I moved here." I whispered to him, "Mother died, and I guess I lost my memories, and never gained them back. I just let Spencer assume that they had returned. But I do remember..."

I stopped and looked back to Doctor Phyllis.

"What?" Freddie asked, "What do you remember?"

"I remember... having two brothers."

"Maybe a second one died in..."

"Neither one of them is Spencer."

"Huh?"

"... But perhaps they are just dreams."

"I canÕt help you, Carly." Freddie shrugged, "I only met you a few years ago. I met you after the accident, after two brothers."

I nodded and watched the Doctor Phyllis show still. The brothers were bickering again.

"They were kind of like, thoes two."

Freddie turned around in his chair to watch, "You're pulling my leg, Carly."

"I don't know." I confessed, "But let's go. I want to be with Spencer right now."

Freddie trembled, "Sam's there, and we are supposed to be at a movie. Who knows what she'll do to me if we go back now?"

I giggled a bit, "Alright, Freddie. But we can't sit here, watch Doctor Phyllis and drink Smoothies forever, you know."

He took out a pen and the Sudoku, "Sorry Carly, I can."

I stole the page from him and ripped the sudoku out. I handed it back to him and took a second pen from his shirt pocket, "I guess I'll work on the jumble then."

"Alright."

We passed thirty mintues in silence. I worked on a cross word when the jumble proved difficult, and read Mrs. Nancy's advice column with _that_ proved difficult as well. When I had done with that I read reviews for Drew and Jerry and then the horiscopes but found myself looking back at Doctor Phyllis.

The two brothers, for what ever reason, were being beaten up by the talkshow host.

"It was over her daughter, right?"

"What?"

"That they got into that fight."

Freddie looked at the television, then laughed, "Oh, yeah. 'Hot' Liza Tuppet."

Then it hit me. I had never seen that episode before. I did not mention it to Freddie, but I could not remember where I had heard it before.

I looked back to my crossword.

A seven letter word for the ultimate joy. _Suprise... brother... secrets... not dead._

Wait, what?

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Yeah, okay... Some reviews would be nice now... I guess... Maybe... Or not.


	2. Chapter 2

iTangle with the CIA

(Disclaimed)

I'm updating because I need to finish what I start.

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Chapter two: i Remember Running

Sam snapped open the paper, "So, you know they are still alive?"

"Who?" I asked.

"Those two." She said, "Drake and Josh."

"Yes. I found out yesterday." I answered. The sketch of Helen was done, and so I took out the pallet I had bought for my first few painting episodes. Then I started mixing the colors for Carly... I mean, Megan, "I watched the news after she had gone to bed. It was just intuition."

Sam set the paper down and sat up, "You're going to risk finding them?"

"Yes." I said, "They may not come get her, but they have to at least suspect Megan is alive somewhere."

"What if... _They_ figure it out?"

"They probably will not." I assured her, and started mixing the paint for Megan's pale skin.

She was glaring at me, "What do you want me to do?"

"Exactly as you've been doing. Megan hasn't got a clue who she is, and for now, I'd like you to keep it that way. I know Megan, and I know Carly. Carly will just frown and wonder for a while and forget about it. Megan will look for answers. Megan will find those answers, then she will do something rash."

"I should leave."

"No." I told her, "Stay here."

"Why?"

"You were too up front. I don't know why, but you're... on edge. What is wrong?"

"I saw the news, too."

"Oh?"

So, she saw the news? I saw it. It had just helped me to get up and find that old photo album. It had helped me pull out the easel, because something told me I would have to give my sister away soon.

"I don't want to lose Carly." Sam told me.

"Neither did I."

And I would have to lose her again, soon. But I could not keep her. Drake and Josh had not wanted to lose Megan, but circumstances made them believe they had. I had known otherwise at the time, but I had not spoken up. Circumstances had made me do otherwise, too.

But nothing would make me forget the dispair on Drake's face. The screams that had echoed along the street as the sirens approached and Josh forced him to leave. They had both been crushed then.

"What do you remember?"

"About as much as Megan remembers."

Sam frowned. She did not like to see me like this. I know Carly hated it. But still, I could not help how I was. I thought of giving her away and it was like a hole opened up in my chest.

Sam rested her head on her arms, "Spencer, what is Project Ender?"

"It's not something I enjoy discussing." I said, "It's not something I would talk about, anyway."

She sighed, "What will you do when Drake and Josh come for her?"

"Maybe I will go to law school again. Maybe I'll tell dad that I droped out..." I laughed a little, "Maybe he'll kill me?"

"Don't tell me you'd like that?" Sam wrinkled her nose, "Spencer, what was your life in San Deigo like?"

"I told you, I don't remember. It's... foggy."

"Foggy?"

"Yes."

It was silent. Sam did not like silence so I assumed that was why she turned on the television. They were talking about Drake and Josh again on the news — only they were just 'terrorists' — and showing security footage of the two of the wreaking havoc in government storage.

_"The official report says that two terrorists broke into the government files and stole secrets concerning nuclear technology._"

"That is not what the official report said last night." I mumbled, "Sam, change the channel."

She did.

I started painting Megan's pale skin. I had to resist adding Carly's light blush to her cheeks. Megan had no such flush, and no such curl to her hair. I had trouble remembering that.

"What did they say last night?"

"They said nothing was stolen." I said, "Don't you remember? Either way, nothing or secrets, changing the story is suspicious."

"Yeah, I guess so."

We were silent again. Sam got back up and watched me painting Megan. Naturally, she said, "Carly doesn't look like that."

"I know." I said, adding a few shadows to her nose and forehead, "Carly curls her hair. Megan does not. With as much as you sleep over, I thought you would know.'

"I've never seen a curler."

"Look under her bathroom sink."

She looked at me, then I heard her climbing up the stairs and opening cabinets. She exclaimed then slammed it again, "It looks so _natural_!"

She came back down and looked at if everything she knew was a lie. I smirked a bit as she came back and watched me paint. I was amazed that she was not getting bored and asking to leave to be with Carly every few seconds.

"You never really told me who the real Carly was."

"I don't intend to." I said, "It's not a story I enjoy telling."

"If Carly _isn't_ Carly..." Sam started, "Then, why _is _she with you? What I mean is, how did you convince Mr. Shay to let her stay with you?"

"He didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Legally, I could do what ever I wanted. I did not need his permission. Nothing is official, remember. She's just here. Everyone knows it, but everyone suspects I'm still not myself, so they don't bring it up."

"Eh?"

"I hadn't been myself for a while."

"Like, Jekyll and Hyde?"

"I suppose."

She shook her head and crossed her arms, obviously a bit shaken. "What do you plan on doing with this?" she gestured to the painting to distract us both.

I had finished Carly's skin, and started on her hair, "Sending it to the Parker-Nicholes Hotel."

"The one here?"

"No. There is a new one opening in Yudonia. It will be having a special art exhibit during the grand opening. I suspect, not only Walter and Audrey, but Drake and Josh will be there."

"Why?"

"When the first one opened here, last year, I remeber seeing pictures, and seeing Drake in the back ground. I suspect he walked right below Carly's window, and never knew it."

"It looks nice. Care to explain it to me?"

"Later." I said, adding a blue highlight to Megan's hair, "When it is done, but why?"

"I like hearing you explain your work. Carly does, too. We know it makes you happy."

I grinned, "That's very observant of you."

"Yeah." she said causally, miffed that I had found her exposing her sweeter side, "Well, I just do it for Carls."

"There is a box in my room, could you get it for me?"

"Where?"

"In the closet. There is a guitar in it."

"But you have no musical tallent what so ever!" she laughed.

"I never said it was mine."

She stopped laughing, shrugged, and came back with the box I had asked her about, "Who's guitar is it?"

"Drake's." I told her, "Is there a sweater in there?"

She looked up at me with a raised eyebrow, "Who stores _sweaters_ with _guitars_?"

"I do!" I snapped lightly, "It's a few things I took from Megan's house before I brought her here."

"Eh?"

I took the sweater and started mixing colors for it.

"What's so important about it?"

"Megan knitted it herself."

"She _knits_?"

"Yes."

"Well, that was never established." she shook her head, "Hey, a restraining order!"

She took out the restraining order Ophra had put out against Josh. I laughed as Sam read it, "Why did she issue this?"

"He accidentally hit her with his car."

Sam immediately started laughing. I laughed too as I watched her poke through Megan's and my old life. She pulled out my old Premiere vest.

"You still got this old thing?" she asked, holding it up to the light. It was burned in places. There was one bloodstain on it, because Megan had a gash on her shoulder when I picked her up.

I looked at that vest and I remembered clearly laying Megan down on the couch and trying to wake her while Sam watched. She had opened her eyes and looked at me. She had taken the collar of that vest in her hand and said quite plainly,_ "Spencer, you've been wearing this thing for far too long."_

Then she weakly brought her fingers to her lips, kissed them, and held them against my face. I laid my hands against hers and could not help but whisper, _"Carly."_

_"That's right. I'm here."_

She had then smiled, her hand dropped and her eyes closed. For one terrifying moment I feared I had lost her, but then she started breathing again. I was exited, because she had recognized me not as Crazy Steve, but as Spencer.

Then I was confused. I had never told her my name was Spencer. But it was Spencer. It had always been Spencer, legally.

I was never sure if that had been just a bit of my insanity, or if for some reason, she knew. If that, for whatever reason, in that moment in time she understood. Or if Carly's spirit had somehow held on, clinging to me from the moment she died, only to move into Megan's body for just that minute, to try to tell me that I had to let go of the life I had once lived.

"Why had she called me, Spencer, Sam?" I asked.

"Because that's your name!" Sam said.

"I had never told her that. No one in San Deigo knew that."

"What had they called you, then?"

I looked away from the vest and to the sweater, "Crazy Steve."

"Why your father's name?"

"Maybe because it was his fault."

She frowned at me. She had a similar reason for calling herself 'Momma' from time to time. She was the one who took care of herself when she was little. Her mother had rarely been there. My father had caused my insanity.

My hand tightened on the brush. It was his fault... He had taken the accident out on me! Because Carly, the real Carly, had died when she was seven in a car accident. The same accident that had killed Mom.

"God, I hate that man..." We may pretend to be on civil terms to keep up appearances, but there was a thread that was holding us apart. It was just waiting to snap.

"Spence?" Sam asked from the floor. It was as if she had slapped me and brought me back to reality. I forced a smile for her.

"Sorry. Just remembering."

"Remembering what?"

How I had taken his own gun and shot through his knee. How I had gotten on my bike and ran away with little or nothing to go on. How I had cried myself to sleep on the side of the road for days on end, knowing he would kill me when he found me.

"Running." I told her, "I remember running."

She was conserned for me, "What _will_ you do when Carls is gone... again?"

I did not want to give Carly away, either, but I knew I had to give Megan back. Sam had to understand that. I had denied that the day would ever come, but I just knew it would eventually. It was time for her to stop lying to herself, too.

"Carly is gone, Sam."

"Your Carly, maybe." she snapped, "Not _mine_. My Carly is still around. What will you expect me to do, when she is gone?"

"Well, I can pretend you're my sister, next. If you like. It can be legal with you."

She did not like, "I don't want your _charity._" she muttered spitefully, "I want _Carly_."

"I don't want to give her up either."

"Then don't!"

"I've got to. I'm losing sleep over not telling them, at least. If they want her back, they can get her."

"But the CIA wants her, too!" Sam stood up, "You know that just as well as I do. You can catch more flies with honey than with viegar, its ture, but you attract bears, as well! And wasps and... all sorts of riff-raff."

"I've got it under control."

"You're no chess master."

"Yes I am."

Sam starred at me and crossed her arms, clearly not conivinced that I knew what I was doing or that I was doing the right thing. I just shrugged and used the left over black from Megan's hair to paint the upper sky dark. The rest of it I highlighted blue, then went through and began to warm the area above the school with smoky, ember-lit clouds.

"What did the real Carly look like?"

"She was blonde." I said, "Dirty blonde, more like you than Megan."

She was not happy with that answer. She frowned and cleared her throat and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. I had always wondered why such a rough-cut girl like Sam had and bothered to maintain long hair. "Is there a picture?"

"Not in this appartment, no."

To the best of my knowledge, I had left them all behind, and relied on my memories, not pictures. Maybe because I had wanted to try to forget I had ever had a sister, and in my rush to leave the scene I had abandoned them all.

I never bothered getting another because I could not risk Carly finding it and asking me about it. I could never lie to her, not when my real little sister was watching me from a little bit of the past. Besides, the Megan inside her would _know_ I was lying to cover up the photographs of the first Carly.

"Well..." Sam started from the floor, "Wh-what if she does not remember Drake and Josh? Surely you cannot make her go back."

I cleaned the paintbrush. A valiant effort, but I had to dissagree, "I know she remembers."

"How?"

"I caught her staring at the Parker-Nicloes hotel, once. With a look on her face... Like she was having deja vu."

Sam winced like I had just slapped her in the face, "Well, it could just be coincidence."

"I know she remembers." I said, starting on the premier's sign, "Besides, she will once she sees Drake and Josh again."

"What makes you so sure they want her back?"

"Why would they not?"

She stared at Drake's guitar like it was actually Drake, and she was about to strangle it. I feared she was about to start smashing it, but she just sighed and shook her head, then gently set it down. She picked up the photo album, "Can I look at this?"

"Go right a head."

She took it to the couch and proped it on her knees, lazily turning the pages of the past. I managed to get most of the white filled in when she exclaimed, "You've put pictures of me in here!"

I suppose I had inadvertantly done so. I mean, I was filling it was pictures of Carly, and in some of those pictures were other people. Including Sam and Freddie, even Gibby once or twice. And myself, I suppose. Mrs. Benson, too, if I recal correctly.

"What?" I asked, "Do you want me to take them out?"

"No... It's just, why?'

"I only borrowed it from Josh!" I laughed, highlighting the sidewalk behind Helen, "I'm going to return it."

"And?"

"With a letter." I said, darkening the shadows of the lazer a bit more, and highlighting the contours. It was hard work, trying to get just the right ammount of paint with that tiny brush in such a small space, "Write one too, if you like."

She stood up immediately and took a pen and paper from where Carly and I normally kept them. She sat down at the kitchen table and was silent for ages while she quickly scratched away a letter. I highly doubted I would actually let her send it to Drake and Josh, considering she was probably demanding the send her Carly back, and just forget that Megan had ever existed.

I shook my head and began the long work of minor touch-ups. When everything was highlighted to my satisfaction I cleaned the brush one last time, and then my hands. I made Sam and myself some lunch, but neither one of us felt like eating, so I just refriderated the leftovers.

The day passed in a blurr. Carly and Freddie came back from their spontaneous date. Sam was still writing. When Carly asked what she was doing, she just told her to give her some space. Freddie went home for some perventive medical procedure. Carly asked about dinner.

Sam told her to eat the sir-fry we had not had for lunch.

She looked at me with a conserned frown, as if she were about to start crying because she knew asking questions would do no good. Then she climbed the stairs to her room, and I assume she went to bed.

Freddie came back because he forgot something. He grabbed it off the coffee table and left again. I suspect he only droped in because he was conserned about me. I fear I just made him worry more.

I sighed and wondered what more detail I could put into my painting. It had turned out well enough, and so I dipped the brush in white paint and started to write my name.

No, not Spencer Shay. They did not know that name. Crazy Steve. A name that brought back memories.

Sam sat at the kitchen table still. I thought she had gone to bed when Carly had, but she was seated in the same chair she always used, ten or so sheets of paper crumpled up around her, and her head on her arms. I smiled, the pen was still in her hands, the most recent draft of her letter to her left. Carefully, I slipped it out from under her elbow and read it.

_Drake and Josh, and Carly_

_ This is Sam. I am the blonde one in all thoes new photographs in that album. I am Carly's (even if you call her Megan) best friend, and I probably always will be. At least, I hope I will be. Spencer seems to think Megan means the world to you, but she means the world to me, too._

_ Carly, I suppose in the past few weeks you have noticed I have been acting strange. I have been dodgeing your questions and snapping at Freddie more than I normally do. IÕm sorry, I just restented losing you._

_ Besides, Spencer asked me too. It was part of the agreement. I could come over, mooch of the two of you any time I wanted, be your best friend, spend my life trailing after you. As long as I never told you what your past was._

_ Only now, Spencer wants me to tell you the truth. I think. Regardless of what I think, of what I want, and even what you want, he wants you to go back with your real brothers. He wants you to stop being Carly, and go back to being Megan._

_ I hate that._

_ Your first memory of us, is when we met in grade school, we fought over a sandwich. But when that memory is set, you, Megan, were living in San Deigo. Not in Seattle._

_ Carls, you have probably figured out that memory is fake. I don't know if you always just pretended to make me feel better, of if you honestly thought I knew you when you were seven. I'm not really sorry I lied, because that lie gave me the best friend I ever had._

_ But it is time you knew the truth about the first time I met you. I was one of the first people to see you when you came to Seattle. I was in the apartment when Spencer first carried you in. I was there because I always came there. It was my secret place, and I had gotten good at breaking in. No one lived there, after all. There was no one to complain._

_ But then you and Spencer came in. He did not even ask who I was, really. He just sort of looked right past me, and normally I would not have cared Ñ you know me. I would not have Ñ but there was so much blood, I wondered why he was not taking you to the hospital._

_ You called him Spencer, and he called you Carly. I was not until a few mintues later that he noticed me, and explained everything to me. Only until a few days ago did I learn he had never told you his name was Spencer, that you had only ever known him as Crazy Steve._

_ Carls, why did you call him Spencer? How could you have known?_

_ I know the CIA is still after you. I know I may never see you again, Carls. And if I do, it may just be on America's most wanted, or a news flash claiming you're a terrorist. If you leave with your brothers._

_ So, Carly, stay here. Set your fake brother strait. He needs you far more than Drake and Josh do, you know. With out you, with out Carly, Spencer is just a nutcase with nothing to obsess over._

_ With out Megan, Drake and Josh are just two punks with no one to antagonize them._

_ With out her favorite girl, Sam is just a troublemaker with out any real friends. Maybe I need you way more that Spencer does. Don't I deserve a place here, too? Aren't I your best friend? Do I not get to determine your fate, just a little bit, too._

_ With out the Shays, the apartment is just an empty shell I can huddle away in when things get bad. It is cold and empty, and can not blot out the terrible things outside. It is just like a little tent flapping about in a storm._

_ With you and Spencer in the apartment, it is like home. I can break in, because Spencer does not lock the door, and curl up in your bed and pretend thing's aren't so horrible. I can get lost in the love you two have for each other. Don't give that up just because you aren't really related._

_ Drake, Josh, take good care of Megan, because if the CIA ever catches her, I'll never forgive you, and I'll fight tooth and nail to get her back. I'll make sure you two won't be able to put her in danger again. I'd much rather have Carly with me, than have Megan in jail._

_ Don't you two want the same? Why do things have to change? Can you just write letters? Visit on some occasions? I can't fly all the way to a neutral country just because my mom's being a bitch, or because I never had a real father, or because Melaine's comeing home and she is so much better than me._

_ You can't fly to Seattle that often, either, but you two have spent fourteen or so years with her, right? I've only had two. Is that fair? I've only had a real friend for two years._

_ Yours, waiting in the wings,_

_ Samantha Puckette_

I laughed a little bit and gently shook her awake. She grumbled something about revenge. For once, she was talking scence in her sleep. There was no moving her, though, so I swept her crumpled letters away and folded her completed draft. It may not be fair to her, she was right. Maybe I would let Megan chose when life she wanted to keep. If not for herself, than for Sam.

But even if Megan had forgotten herself, that did not make the government forget her. That did not mean Drake and Josh did not deserve to know she was alive, at least in some form.

I tried to shake her again, the time, her eyes fluttered open for a bit. She saw me standing there and held her arms out to me, "Carry me."

I hoisted her up (she was a great deal heavier than Carly) and carried her to Carly's bedroom. Before putting her to bed completely I took off her shoes for her, and most of her clothes, so she would be comfotable, and tossed one of Carly's nightshirts on for her.

Carly woke up while I was helping the still groggy Sam into bed.

"She didn't go home?"

"No." I told her, tucking Sam in bed with her. Almost at once, Sam turned and started cuddling her.

"I am home, Carly..."

* * *

Wooooooooooooow. This is... not my best work. Meh. I'm still gunna make you wait a week for the next chapter, even though I have till, like, chapter FIVE written already. Out of... Like, twenty. What ever.

Of course, I will, eventually, put this in the crossover section, it is just that nobody really reads those, and, you know, I'm horribly vain and I want readers. So, yeah...

Se ya next week!


	3. Chapter 3

i TanglewiththeCIA

(disclaimed)

* * *

Chapter three: Web Show

When I had lost Megan, my life had been endless pain. When I lost Megan, it felt wrong to feel numb. I would not surrender to the cold, hardened nerves of dispair. I would live in torture, until I was certain I had felt all the pain in my lifetime, that Megan had felt as her body was burned in an instant.

At first it was self-inflicted. All of the pranks she would never get to pull on Josh and me emerged as tiny razor cuts on my shoulders, so Josh would never see them. And I made sure Josh never did see them.

But one day the boss decided my preformace was imperfect, and that was the day I discovered that I had been doing the wrong thing. I was being far to easy on myself. I remember looking in the mirror while shaving and looking at Megan's scar. It ran from the center of my forehead to my right cheekbone, where a support beam hit me and took my eye with it. It happened when Megan died.

I've got a glass eye now. It made fighting and shooting difficult at first, but I got used to it. Besides, to live in torture, I did not nessicarily have to be good at fighting; just getting beaten up.

I had gotten too used to the feeling of physical pain.

Why, then, did emotional trauma still suffocate me?

I sat up in bed. Broken ribs? No problem. Busted arm? Hey, it was still in a sling, right? I was getting too good at my own re-hab.

"Stop doing this, Drake." Josh scolded me, "We'll be seeing Mom and Dad soon. You really want them to see you like this?"

"They hardly notice me, really." I said, "They only look at me for a few seconds, and..."

"Is that the problem?" he asked me, frowning.

"No." I confessed, "I... regret what happened to Megan."

"It wasn't your fault."

Josh fed me that line time and time again. Every time I said Megan's name, he told me that what had happened to her was not my fault. This was all fine and well for him to say, but he and I both knew it was my fault. I had pushed her out the door. I had shot at her feet and made her run down the hallway, strait to her death.

"You did not know what would happen." He said, laying his hand on my shoulder.

"If she had not run, she would be here with us, in Mexico."

He did not attempt to tell me I was wrong, because he knew I was right. Josh and I made it out alive. We could have taken Megan with us, but I panicked and I made her run.

Josh frowned and watched me sulk, "Drake, you get into fights like this, and you're laid up for weeks. I don't know if you notice or not, but it is a strain on both of us. Do you think Megan would like to see you live like this?"

My shoulders relaxed. He had a point, but I had to disagree. This was _my_ retribution, because no one else would give me any kind of punishment. Megan did not have to approve of my methods.

"You think she'd like to see us smuggling drugs into the state we grew up in?" I asked, "You think she'd like to know we are risking our lives stealing secrets because we get good money for it?"

"No." Josh confessed, "She wouldn't."

We sat in silence until I eventually decided there was no point in being angry. Josh was all I had now. I could not isolate myself from him. Not now. Megan would hate that most of all.

Besides, I loved Josh too much to see him suffering just because I had broken a rib or two.

He stood up and put on his sunglasses, "I'm going. You know how to occupy yourself."

I was supposed to be copying thoes files and putting them on CDs for our clients. But I could not. I could look through a few, because that requiered a few steps and it could be done on the bed.

But I did not want to. I would be in bed for awhile, and those files would not be dealt with until the whole affair blew over, so instead of taking them out from where they were hidden, I took the lap top from where it rested on the bedside table and desided it would serve me better fooling around on the internet as opposed to working.

Because sometimes, it was nice to know that even with Megan's scar reminding me of why I must live in hell, I could still be me, just a little bit.

Of course, when you are supposed to be dead to the world, social networks like Facebook were useless, and they could be used to find me, and so Josh had forbade both of us from even looking at facebook on a regular basis. But sometimes, when the two of us were feeling nostalgic and I could move with out pain, we would go to an internet cafe and see what our old friends were saying.

Some times I did it on my own. Sometimes I would stare, unbelieving of my own stupidity at the last post I ever made on Facebook: _Megan and Josh just finished that lazer. It works like nobody's business. I'm so exited and proud._

And I had been unbelievably exited. I could hardly believe my eyes when Megan and Josh first unveiled their bonding project to me. Things had started to look brighter in that moment. Megan, who had lived to cause us pain, who thought both of us were morons, was finally acknowledging her step-brother's genious. I watched as she and Josh hugged each other with the kind of joy geeks got when their plans worked properly.

Foolishly, I had told the world about it. Josh had blushed slightly when I clasped my arm around his shoulder. Megan was holding that lazer, demonstraiting its potentail. She kept smiling at me, because I had suggested they work together. I had demanded it. Because our parents had been away for the summer, and she had to have something aside from torment Josh and I to do.

But rumors fly with swift wings, and they reach wicked ears sooner or later. Because I had opened my big mouth. I had to tell every one and share the joy. I guess it was the e-mail I sent to Italy, to Mom. The government had always been suspitious of that sort of thing, but to discover a child genious in their back yard? No, _two_ geniouses, and the only thing protecting them was a complete moron.

I cringed with the memories, and placed my hand on Megan's scar. Had I known, I never would have said anything. I would have let Megan pull what ever prank she wanted to, had I known it would keep her alive.

They had come for Josh and Megan in the night. I had thought they were just after the lazer they had made, so Josh and I protected it, when we should have abandoned it. All our efforts when to waste anyway. Those Dogs got it in the end. Josh and I went back and looked, and they got the notebook with the operating instructions, too.

When he and I went up to DC, we found the lazer, but did not touch it, becasue it would be too obvious why we had done it. Josh and I looked and looked, but we never found the notebook. We could have just missed it. Maybe the instructions are digital now, but the two times Josh dove into the system, he never found them.

But it made me suspitious to think that any one else got them. Who had known? Who would have been able to guess, and make it in time? Josh and I had only seen Mindy once since we left San Deigo, but she said she did not have them. She said the only clue she had as to where they may be was that someone — no one knew who — had broken into our house after we had left town and made off with four things. My guitar. A photo album Josh had made. One of Mom's sweaters. And, evidentally, the notebook.

And some of Megan's belongings. All Mindy could tell us about that, though, was that a significant amount of undergarments were missing, two pairs of jeans, and most of her shirts. Her brush was gone, too.

What struck me was how the other three items were also personal, too. It was like someone had gone through the house and had chosen three things that would be important to each of us. My guitar. Josh's photo album. The sweater of Mom's had been hand-knitted by Megan.

And then a great deal of Megan's things were gone. All by the same one? That did not seem like something a CIA agent would do. He would take the notebook, sure. But he would take _science equipment_ he would take scrap metal and samples and make it look like no lazer had ever been constructed.

If it had been someone looking for things to sell, they would have taken the guitar, yeah. But Josh had other valuable things. He had a sterio, and a crazy knew computer that had been left behind.

It was like someone was toying with us, trying to give us false hope that Megan was alive, some were, some how. Like they were going through the house thinking of an emotionally shaken Megan, wondering what she would take. Her clothes, naturally. Important items to remind her of her family.

But why would Megan, after being separated from her brothers, want anything to do with the notebook for her last project? To distroy it so the government could never learn how to use the lazer they had gotten? Perhaps. Megan was that smart.

But Megan was gone. I had heard those Government Dogs say so. They had said she had been blown away, not a single trace of her was left. Josh and I had to leave her behind. I could not say a single word on her behalf. I could only scream her name and some how hope she would emerge unharmed from the rubble. She never came.

I do not know why her things were gone, but Megan was dead. Me distroying myself would not bring her back, but the little half death it gave me allowed me to be close to her. Close her her as I could be.

I found iCarly through and add on Youtube. My eyes went strait to it because the girl Ñ Carly Ñ looked a lot like Megan. By which I mean, eerily similiar. Okay, Megan had strait hair and really pale skin, right? This girl had curls and a light blush, but other than that, she was one hundred percent Megan. She even talked the same.

And they had the same penchant for stupid webshows. Still, regardless of how stupid the webshow was, I could only stare blankly as this girl made an idiot of herself with her friends. I was embarrassed. I was intrigued.

And every now and then, I saw a little glimmer of Megan, because sometimes she did mean things. Once she suspended a guy from a rope by his boxers. Very Megan.

She made a video disgraceing a singer on some contest who she had inadvertantly worked against. She had attempted to make it up to him, but he had revealed himself to be a raging cunt. So, she had gotten her revenge. Very Megan.

She was smarter than she let on, and cutely crule. She left curdled milk in the doorman's bag. Strange how she seemed to be mean to everyone who was a little odd to her. Very Megan.

I went back and found some of Megan's old webcasts, and compared her to this "Carly Shay." They had the same delivery. The same posture. Everything was exactally alike.

I rubbed a few tears from my eyes. If Josh found me like this, what would he say? Would he be just as moved to see this web show, to watch what Megan could have been like through this other girl? Would he tell me I was wrong? To forget about it, because Megan was never coming back? Obsessively watching another girl was no replacement.

And he would be right, if he told me that. As I watched iCarly, I just wanted my own little sister back. I wanted her to play a harmlessly mean prank. I wanted to hear her laugh at my misery. I wanted to try to beat up one of her boyfriends. I wanted to hug her just one more time, so no matter what she would know I always loved her.

When I saw Spencer Shay, I was jealous. He was her brother, sure. I understood that this Carly was not Megan. There was no way they could be the same person. I was still jealous, because I wished it could be me who she loved so much. I felt like he was keeping something that belonged to me, and even if he was keeping it in the safest place, perhaps even keeping her safe for me, it still was not right to not try to tell me about it for so long.

But I was fooling myself. Neither one of them had the slightest idea I existed. How could they? They had been living in Seattle for years! News of what happened to three kids in San Deigo had probably never reached them, and if it had, would they even have cared?

Still, I could not quell the feeling that Spencer Shay looked oddly familiar. Just like Megan, I felt that I knew him, some how. But I never knew anyone like that.

He nearly took her head off with a hammer from one of his sculptures.

I wanted to kill him.

He showed up to take Carly home from and MMA fight, and got pushed into a table.

I commended his responsibility and courage, but scorned his inability to stand up for himself.

A great many of his sculptures burst into flames.

Perhaps she was not so safe after all.

But, she was safer with him than she would be with me, right?

I nearly slapped myself. Carly was not Megan. How dare I think such a thing? That was certainly wrong, wanting to take her away like that. What made me any better than a common psyco? Huh? Absolutely nothing, aside from I did not want to brutally murder her, maybe. And in my present condition, I was not about to drive up to Seattle and attempt to cart her off.

But, what was stopping me from e-mailing her?

The governent was not watching her... and they did not know this laptopÕs IP adress. This was our social computer, were we went to casually surf the web and e-mail or parents every now and then. What made Carly Shay any diffrent?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Josh and I even had a e-mail account we used for things like this. I adjusted my seating, because it could get quite uncomfortable laying in bed all the time. I logged onto yahoo and drafted a quick message.

_Hey, I'm not a big fan of iCarly, but I just started watching, you remind me of..._

I stopped. That was not right to say. Infact, it was almost down right cruel. I could not tell her that, could I? No, of course I could not. She would ask for a story, and then what would I tell her? I could not tell Carly Shay what had happened to Megan Parker. She would be scared. She would suspect I was lying.

She may even call the authorities, and then Josh would never forgive me. So instead, I went in instant messanger instead.

_ Hey, I'm a fan. Want to chat?_

Because it would be like talking to my little sister again. I could at least pretend, right? She never had to know. She could say anything she wanted, and she would never know I was in tears on the other side.

_Sure, I got a few mintues. What up?_

_ Is this Carly?_

_ Yup. Who is this?_

_ Drake._

She did not respond for a while. I do not know why, but after a while the computer chimed again.

_I see... what do you want to talk about?_

_ How's the weather in Seattle._

_ lol! It's great. Where are you?_

_ Florida._ I lied.

_You want to talk over webcam?_

As much as I wanted too, I could not let her seem me like this. So I told her.

_I'm kind of in a bad way right now. It's not good to see._

_ What do you mean?_

_ I mean, I'm pretty scared up at the moment._

_ OMG! What happened?_

_ I got jumped. _I told her. Another blatant lie, but what ever_. A lot of the scars are old ones, though. It's pretty bad, I don't want you to see._

_ That sounds just awful. If you were closer, I would visit you in the hospital. How about a shout-out on iCarly?_

Why not? There were a lot of Drakes in the world, and a handful of them where probably in Florida. As long as she did not have a picture of me, what was the harm? I laughed a little through my tears. She was trying to make me feel better.

_I'd like that a lot._

_ Well, good, Drake in Florida. But what are the lasting scars from?_

_ A car accident. _I lied again, and I desided to ease her into my confession with another lie. _My little sister died in that accident._

_ I know how you feel. When I was twelve, I lost my memories and my mom in a car accident._

That came as a shock. _What?_

_ ... I don't really tell strangers that, I'm sorry. It was when we were coming back to Seattle from vacation. I don't really remember what happened, or anything before that. All I remember is waking up in the apartment with Spencer standing over me._

_ That's terrible._

_ Don't ever tell, Spencer... I mean, if you ever meet him, don't tell him. Besides, he's been acting so strange lately, I don't know how he will take the news._

_ Really?_

_ He's not sculping. He's painting... You don't know him, so that means nothing to you, but when he starts working in two dimentions, its a bad sign. He starts acting... like a madman._

_ Does he ever hurt you?_

_ No! Don't be silly! Spencer would never hurt me, even if he is acting insane! You have absolutely nothing to worry about! lol!_

_ Well, that's good._ I laughed. Of course, I had seen Spencer several times. He really did not look like he could hurt anyone, especially Carly. _I know about that. Regardless of what Megan did, I would have never hurt her, either._

_ Brother are such a nice thing to have._

_ You don't know how great a little sister is until she's gone._

_ I have to go now. _She said, _I'm going to the mall with Sam._

_ I should sleep a bit. _I confessed, _so I probably won't be online when you get back._

_ See you, Drake._

_ Bye, Megan._

I moved the laptop aside. I was feeling weak now, probably because of the head injury I had sustained. She could not have left at a better time. I yawned and closed my eyes.

* * *

_I came in through the back door, because I was used to that. The back door was never locked. All I saw was Megan, seated in the kitchen. She had desided to curl her hair, apparently, and put on blusher. Maybe she was trying to impress a guy._

_ She was eating watermelon. I could not think of a more perfect snack when you were hungry and thristy, could you? All the consistency of melon, with the hydrating power of a glass of water. With out really thinking (because if she took revenge, I would not have to miss it any more) I took the spoon from her hand and took a bite for myself._

_ She laughed, confused._

_ "Hey, Megan."_

_ "Huh?"_

_ "Where's Josh?"_

_ "What?"_

_ It was that little blonde girl from iCarly. Sam, right? What was Sam doing at our table? And there was Freddie, and some dark-haired woman that I had never seen before._

_ I set down the watermelon spoon and looked at her, "Where's Mom?... Walter?"_

_ "Excuse me?" the woman asked._

_ "Who are you?" I asked her, too confused to even point properly._

_ "Do I know you?" she responded._

_I looked around. This was not our kitchen. I knew this place, but I had never lived there. I had seen it on iCarly once or twice. I looked down at Megan again. She was laughing, that strange little laugh people made when they were completely clueless as to what they were supposed to be doing._

_ I took her arm and pulled her up, "Come on, Megan, let's go home."_

_ "But, I am home." she insisted, trying to slip away from me, "I don't know you."_

_ "I'm your brother."_

_ "Spencer is my brother." she said, stepping away from me, her arm coming free from my hands._

_ "No, he's not." I insisted, "You're my little sister, Megan Parker. Come on, Megan. We're going home."_

_ I stepped towards her again, but Freddie stood up and pushed me back, "She doesn't know you."_

_ "Yes, she does!" I insisted, grabbing his collar, "She's coming with me. I am taking my little sister back."_

_ The blonde kicked my knees out from under me, then Freddie punched me, so that I hit my head on the kitchen counter and fell at Megan's feet. They all screamed as the scar that covered my face came into view. I had done well to hide it with my hair, but gravity had pulled it back._

_ Megan starred at the scar. Her scar. Then knelt down beside me, "Drake?"_

_ "Yes." I said, pulling myself up, "I'm Drake Parker."_

_ She seemed to be remembering now. Tears flooded her eyes and she threw her arms around my shoulders, "Drake!"_

_ I held her as tight as I dared. My little sister was back, and I would not let her go for the world. I missed her so much. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but I could only cry and rock back and forth with her and whisper her name over and over again._

_ "Why did you abandon me?"_

_ "I thought you were dead." I forced out._

_"Carly?"_

_ We both turned. Spencer was standing beside the older woman, a bit in shock, a bit glad. This is the guy who had taken my little sister in and taken care of her. He could have turned over to the government dogs. I could have abanonded her, just as I had, but he had not. She had come back to me, thanks to him._

_ I stood up with Megan still firmly clasped in my arms. I walked over to him and held out my hand, "Thanks for taking care of her for me."_

_ He crossed his arms with a small smile, "You're welcome."_

_ "But, who are you?"_

_ He laughed, and slapped a red peice of fabric in my hands. I took my arm off of my little sister's shoulders just a moment to unfold it. I saw a blood stain on the right shoulder, and a logo on the left. It was the premier's logo._

_ His hand reached out lightning fast and he jerked Megan away from me. I dropped the vest in horror of my realizasion, "Crazy Steve!"_

_ He shot at my feet. Sam and Freddie ran forward to keep Megan from returning to me. A rift appeared in the floor, tearing the kitchen from the living room, and keeping Megan out of arm's reach. The vest fell into it as I dropped to my knees, "Please, give my little sister back."_

_ "Come and get her, then."_

_ "What?"_

_ "Come and get her, Drake."_

* * *

I woke up with a start after that. I had not realised that I had just moved the laptop over to the side of the bed I probably would not use. I had not even closed the internet down. I rubbed the sleep from my good eye and looked at the monitor. She had left another message that I had missed.

_... it's Carly._

Fuck.

* * *

WHOO! That was a huge improvement, if I do say so myself! I dunno, am I too good a angst? I think I am.

Yeah, the first part of that dream sequence was taken pretty much directly from iBloop. You remember, when Drake shows up? So, if you want to get a basic idea of what Drake looks like right now, go watch the episode.


	4. Chapter 4

iTanglewiththeCIA

(Disclaimed.)

I will probably move this into the cross over section next chapter. Really, I should to it now because this has sooooo many references to Drake and Josh, anyone who is unfamiliar with the show would be completely lost.

Also, GASP! A day late! Oh noes... Yeah, I totally forgot about this one. I dunno, I might actually just post what I have, leave a summary of the last bit, and let it to fester for awhile, and then AFTER I've completed Meta-Morphine AND Divergence (shameless self-promotion. But seriously, go read Divergence. If you've seen Tangled, READ DIVERGENCE NOW AND JOIN THE RANKS OF WAITING PEOPLE) or maybe not. I dunno.

* * *

Chapter four: i Snoop Around

"I'll be back in an hour and a half, Carls!" Spencer called from down stairs, "I'm going to deliver this painting, and do some grocery shopping."

"Okay, Spencer!" I called from my bedroom.

When I heard the door shut I got up immediately. _This_ was the opprotunity I had been searching for! I ran down the stairs and went strait for the photographs he had been using for refrence. I quickly rifled through them. They were full of a girl that looked like me, and a completely diffrent family.

I found a guitar, and a sweater in a box hidden away in a corner under one of the canvass sheets Spencer used when he scupted. It caught my eye because it should not be out. I was positive it had not been out yesterday. I rifled through the other things, and found a few items that meant nothing to me, so instead I just looked at the photographs of the girl that looked so much like me it was eerie.

You know, the two boys she was with, looked a lot like the two from my dreams. I could clearly see one of them in the movie theater. And there he was, in a movie theater, in the photograph.

And there was the other one with a guitar. No, the very guitar that was laying beside me at the moment! And there was a woman in the hand knitted sweater from the box, too! How strange! Perhaps these were distant family, and that girl was a close cousin.

Where the memories just from a visit?

No, would not I remember the visit more clearly?

What if it was before the wreak?

Of course! I was just remembering close cousins!

I laughed out loud, and set it down, starting to turn away, then I reminded myself: Spencer would not be so secrative about something so simple. It cut me like a knife, but I knew it was ture. I knew it had to be so. Beside, I would have heard from those cousins.

But look, there was Spencer in the background in one!

He was wearing a vest, exactally like the other one. Only, in the other photograph I managed to see him in, he was also only wearing his work uniform. Why?

But you know, there was something diffrent. Spencer in this photograph was smiling, but the smile was diffrent from the one I knew. This smile did not reach his eyes. It seemed almost mad and spiteful. His hair was also too short for the Spencer I knew. My brother took great pride in his hair, and he resented having it cut short. Why then, was his head practically shaven?

And why was he not with me more often? Infact, aside from the girl who looked almost exactally like me, I was no where to be seen.

How on earth did _this_ picture get here?

It was the two other brothers kissing. Spencer was no where to be seen. I laughed as I looked at it, because some how I felt like I had been the one to snap the photo, and it was one of the poudest moments of my life. Still, why were they kissing?

Where was I? I was no where to be seen, just my look a like. Was she a cousin, or was she my twin?

Was she... me?

"No." I said a loud and stood up, "No."

That could not be right. It just could not be. I had always been with Spencer. Always. I trusted him and his word, even if I had no proof. Yet, here was proof on the contrary right at my feet. Relics of a life I do not remember, but could have possibly lived. I did not want to believe it. I refused, even if doubt was slowly taking hold.

"No!" I screamed, jumping back, "No!"

"Is everything alright, Carly?"

"Freddie!" I ran to the door and jerked it open, "Freddie, you have to help me!"

"What?" he demaned, taking my arm and pulling me into the hall, "What is it? Have you been hurt?"

"C-Come..." I started, "Come and look."

I dragged him over to where I had left everything, "You remember the dreams I told you about?"

"About the two brothers?"

"Yes." I picked up a random photograph, "Look at this."

He stared at it with a frown, "... Why are they kissing?"

"One of them gave the other tickets to Oprah."

He turned it over, "How did you know that?"

It felt like someone had just punched me in the chest. My stomach lept into my mouth, taking my heart and lungs with it, and leaving my small intestine stretched out in my torso, "I... don't know."

He looked sorry he had asked, "Well, what else? Just this photo?"

"No." I said, "See this guitar, it's here, and here, too! And this sweater, its in this family portrait."

"So are you..." he mumbled when I handed it too him.

"I know." I confessed, "But look, in the left corner."

He sat down on the floor with me, "It's... Spencer."

"Only its not." I insisted, "Spencer isn't like that."

Freddie frowned at me, "Just like this is not you." he pointed to my look a like.

"But, what if that is me? That guy is Spencer."

"Okay."

"He is only in two. I am in every one of them, Freddie. Why? Is he not my brother? Who are these people?"

Freddie sighed, "I don't know."

"What if I am not me?"

He took my hand, "I won't leave you."

I settled down. It was an empty promise, certainly. Even if he did not want to leave me, if I was not Carly Shay, and if these other two showed up, certainly they had more legal power over me than Spencer did? Or, what if these were the real Shays, and Spencer was the imposter?

Who was the fake one here, him or me? I had assumed it was him. I had no memories. Any falsehood I told was not my responsibility. "I could be brainwashed for all I know." I said suddenly, "Living in some state of hypnosis. What if he... did something to me?"

"Like what?"

"Traumatized me so I would forget?"

"Spencer would never do that." Freddie told me firmly, "Besides, isn't it safe to assume all this happened before you moved here?"

"Yes."

"I have always lived across from you. Mom and I would have heard something. There is no torture in the world that can take away your memories. It just does not add up. He has never done a violent thing to you, ever, has he? A person's tendancies don't just vanish."

"You're right." I sighed, "But, why am I here, still? What happened to these people?"

"You know who they look like?"

"Who?" I asked as Freddie got up and took the peices of yesterday's paper. He came back with the front page and the composite sketches of the two theives.

"Those two." he said, "Also, the ones from the Doctor Phyllis Show."

He was right.

"Why are they stealing files from the government?" I asked, "What happened?"

"Carly, look, this... I think you're being silly. Just because you two look a like."

"—And Spencer!" I cut in.

"You said so yourself they don't look the same."

I looked away towards the pile of things I had yet to look through. There was a scrap of red polyester. On a determined whim I grabbed it and jerked it out. It was a uniform. The uniform. That other Spencer's uniform.

"Oh... God..." Freddie gasped, "C-Carly... I don't know what to say... I mean, this proves _something_... Why is their blood on it?"

"What?" I asked, smoothing out over my knees. Sure enough, there was a distinct old blood stain where my hand had been. I screamed and pushed it away, "Who's blood is it?"

"I don't know!" Freddie exclaimed, pulling me away, as if it was some sort of demon. I understood why. The moment my eyes had fallen on that blood stain, I felt a charge of blind anger and warped reality, very much like a great deal of bad energy was still clinging to that vest.

Terrified, we starred at it for a moment, wrapped in each other arms, "Can we test it... in your scanner?"

"T-the bio-scanner?"

"Y-yes." I trembled, "With some of mine, and compare it. Can we do that?"

"Yeah." he said, pulling me to my feet, "Come on."

We walked across the hall and he got the scanner and his lap top. When he had set them both up on the counter, he ran it over the stain on the vest. He compared it to my blood. We waited a while, hand-in-hand, while his computer processed the data.

It beeped. _88% to 100% match. Given contaminants and human error._

"It's mine." I whispered, "Why is it mine?"

Freddie seemed to be thinking hard about something. "When you first came here..." he started, "You had a gash on your shoulder... Maybe he was carrying you in? Maybe he still had the vest on?"

"Why did he never clean it?"

"Maybe he just forgot?"

"For _two years_?" I asked.

"It happens." Freddie shrugged, folding it up as if it might bite his hand off if he was not careful enough. I laid my hand on the vest. It smelt strongly of Spencer, as if he had never worn anything else, like one of his jackets, only with more bad energy. Spencer's jackets always had such good vibes.

"So, what do you think?" Freddie asked me, "I mean, do you want to ask him about this?"

There was a photo album on the table. Spencer had carelessly left it out, and so I picked it up and started looking at it. Half of it was filled with pictures of one life, the other half, the other life. Freddie laid his hand on my shoulder as we examined them together.

"Maybe I will." I said, "But, what if he does not answer?"

"Let's clean up the mess." Freddie said, looking at the excess photos scattered across the floor.

"You're right."

I folded up the sweater and tucked it and the vest away with the guitar under the protective canvass while Freddie gathered up the photographs and stacked them. I arranged everything so that it would look like nothing had been disturbed to Spencer (he was really bad at noticing such things).

We sat down on the couch together, starring our reflextion in the powerless television screen. We did not touch each other, we just watched ourselves motionless until we dared to speak. Which was after a long uncomfotable silence.

"How will I ask Spencer about this?" I asked, "I can't just come right out and say it, can I?"

"No." Freddie said, pulling me to him once again, "I guess you can't."

"He will be home in an hour." I said, "Freddie, do you think, if I got a sample of Spencer's DNA, it could compare it to mine?"

Freddie looked at the scanner, "Maybe..."

I stood up, "Let's try it."

I took his hand and set him down by the computer again, "It will come up at least fifty percent, right? It will be just the thing to set my mind at ease!"

"What if it is ten to zero?" Freddie asked, "What if it only makes things worse?"

"Then... We'll talk to Spencer." I sighed, nodding, "As soon as he comes home."

But I was so confident our DNA would match. How could it not match? Spencer was no liar, he was my brother. It just had to match.

"He almost always cuts himself shaving." I said, "If I am lucky, there will be some bits of toilet paper with his blood on them."

"And you don't consider that gross?"

I laughed, my spirits suddenly high. No, I did not. Not now, at least. I picked a few up off of the bathroom sink. Now, they were a blessing. I carried them back to Freddie, who was busy resetting the gizmo. We scanned Spencer's blood, them my own.

"It will take a while."

"I know." I chipred, "I don't mind. Want to go to the Groovie-Smoothie later?"

"Sure." he shrugged, watching the bar on the screen inch longer and longer, "But, Carly, if Spencer is not your brother... You have to think about the implications."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's just something you shouldn't mess with." he said, "Come on, let's talk about this. You can tell me now it won't change a thing, but you know deep down it will. If you find out he's been lying to you, I know you'll be angry."

He was right. I would be angry. I'd be scared, too. For years I had been okay with things because he was my brother. I had let him hug me for no reason, carry me, kiss me simply because he wanted too, and even see me naked. Because we were related, and that was okay for brothers and sisters. If he was not, I would certainly be embarassed, as well as frightened and more than just upset. But surely knowing the truth was better than living a lie, right? Or at least, taking a risk was better than living in doubt?

"I don't want to doubt him any more."

"Then just talk to him."

"What if he won't answer?"

Freddie took my hands in his, "Say you find out, and talk to him about it. What will you do if he lies then, Carly?"

"I don't know." I frowned. How could be be so mean? I had been perfectally content to wait ten or so mintues for the results, but he had frightened me again.

It was then gruling, terrible work waiting for the results to come. I waited for ten minutes, and it seemed like an hour. I had chewed my nail down halfway (man it would hurt later!) and had twirled my hair into an almost unsavable knot. Freddie just held me to him.

It beeped. _O% match._

My heart fluttered. There was no way that could be right. Just no way. I was not Spencer's sister? Despite the blind panic, a cool calm spread over me. Yes, this was right, even if there was no way it could be true. Deep down, I knew it was right. I could deny it. I could deny it hellfire. But it was right.

"It... must be mistaken." he tried to reassure me. "It's got to be."

"No." I shook my head, "It can't be wrong. This is right. Spencer and I aren't related."

"Carly..."

"Then who is he? Who was I? Which one of us was the imposter?" I cried, sitting down on the couch. Freddie sat down beside me and set his arm around my shoulders, holding my head to his shoulder.

"It's okay, Carly."

The feeling of serenity in the truth was gone. I felt cheated and violated. I felt like God had just slapped me in the face because I had dared question the way things were. Was Steven Shay even my father? Why had no one ever told me? Why had they let me find out on my own like this? Why had I even bothered? Why had I done this to myself?

I felt sick. Like my body was not my own, and it was just some crule trick some one played on me. Like I should have died along time ago. I sobbed against Freddie's chest, gathering his shirt in my fists in dispair and anger and fear, "Why did he never tell me?"

"I don't know, Carly." he said, stroking my hair, "I'm so sorry." He sounded just as scared and shocked as me. I felt him reach up and rub tears from his own eye, we sat there for a while until he reached into his pocket and drew out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I-I'm calling him." he sniffed, "We've got to talk to him."

We waited in silence, listening for the phone ring. Our apartment suddenly felt like a cold prison. A cage Spencer had put me in. What was I? Some sort of pet? A doll he could pretend was his sister? What was he going to do with me when I grew up? Tell me the truth and kick me out?

I felt cold, and every thing turned grey while Freddie and I listened to the phone ring. It echoed in ever corner of my brain, made my heart plummet between rings. Was he there? Had he answered? And raise again while the buzzing came. Why was he not answering? What was he doing?

Then, after what seemed like another terrible hour, his voice came from the other side, completely oblivious to our fear and pain. "Hey, kiddo, what up?"

"Spencer." I heard Freddie's voice beside me, "Please, c-come home."

"Is everything alright?"

"... Sure."

Spencer asked suspitiously, "Where is Carly? Is she with you?"

Then, suddenly, Freddie snapped, "Is she really Carly?"

Spencer shouted back, "Where is she?"

"Who is she?" Freddie demanded, "Why did you lie to her, Spencer? Where is her real brother?"

Spencer was silent. I heard him sigh, and assumed he was shaking his head, "Give the phone to Carly."

It was agony to hear. I did not want to discuss this over the phone. I wanted to hear in person. I wanted to look him in the eye when he confessed wheather or not he was a psycho or a saint.

"Yes?" I asked after I had reached up with shaking fingers to take the cellphone down to my ear, "Spencer?"

"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?"

I did remember. But it meant nothing now. He had said regardless of what happened, he was my brother, and he loved me. He said things were going to get difficult, and I might start to see him diffrently. He might make choices I did not like.

"Yes." I said, "I remember."

He laughed softly, lovingly. The kind of laugh that normally accompanied a warm hug and a kiss on the head. I shivered and wished I would never have to face that again.

"Then what is wrong?"

"I'm scared, Spencer."

"Of what, Carly?" he said, "Stay there, with Freddie. I'll be home soon, and I'll tell you the truth."

"C-can I handle the truth?"

"I think you can." he said, "Can you wait an hour?"

"Why?"

"Well, we have to eat, don't we?"

"We have ramen in the pantry!" I said, "Come home!"

He laughed, "Ramen! Carly! We can't honor this occasion with ramen!"

"Please, come home!" I begged, "I'm scared, Spencer. I'm so scared."

"I know." he said, "I am, too."

"What?"

"I'll be there in a hour."

"NO!" I demanded, "Come home now."

"I'm sorry."

"No!" I shrieked again, but he had hung up. I would have thrown the phone if I was not paralyzed.

Freddie took the phone from my hand, "Come on, an hour is not so bad." he helped me sit back and relax a bit, "I know it seems stupid at a time like this, but turn on the tv. Two episodes of Spongebob, and he will be back before you know it."

"What if he's not?"

"He'll come home." Freddie assured me, "I won't forgive me if he doesn't."

But Drew and Jerry was on, not Spongebob. I never did like that show, and so I got up and went to my room. Freddie followed me, but I locked him out. I opened my lap top and loged onto my yahoo account.

There was an instant message from Drake waiting for me.

_ How have you been? What about your brother?_

_ I'm scared. _I confessed.

_Why?_

_ He's got something important to tell me. And I'm terrified to what it may be... I think we aren't related._

_ Oh, that happens to every kid at one point. Don't you trust him?_

That really made me think. Regardless of what had happended, I was scared of the future, but I was not scared of Spencer. And I certainly had not lost any trust, yet. Or, had I?

_I think so._

_ Then whatever happens, things will be okay, right?_

_ Maybe. But how will I wait an hour?_

_ Have you tried watching Spongebob?_ _That always cheers me up._

_ Drew and Jerry is on._

_ Fuck! _He responded after a while. _I hate that show!_

_ Me too. It's nice of you to stay online waiting for me._

_ It's not like I'm obsessive or anything. I just don't have anything to do, and very few friends._

_ That's so sad._

_ Oh, it's fine. Besides, who's to say I was not just watching dirty videos waiting for you?_

I laughed. He probably was, but I did not care. What little humor I could get was good enough for me, even if it was dirty, discusting humor.

"Who are you talking to?" Freddie asked from the hall.

"Just a really nice fan." I said, "That is all."

_I certainly won't ask you to appear on web-cam then._

_ ... I was kidding, but whatever. ;D_

_ You're in a good mood today._

_ I'll be visiting my family, soon. It's a little lonely for me, but it makes my brother happy._

_ Oh, you have a brother?_

_ Yeah. Any way, I've got to go now. Packing is hard when you've got a broken arm. We'll talk later, okay? Tell me all about what happens._

My heart sank. He logged off, and so did I. I shut the computer and joined Freddie in the hall, "He had to go."

"I'm sorry." Freddie said, "Who was he?"

"Some kid named Drake in Florida. I found out he has a brother today."

"Do you know what he looks like?"

"No."

Freddie was not really conserned for my safety. I had talked to several people online. I knew how to take care of myself. We just sat down on the couch for thirty mintues, until Drew and Jerry ended, and Spongebob started. Spencer came back half way through the second half.

He set the groceries down on the kitchen table, "Come sit down." Freddie and I stood up and headed to the kitchen, "Alone."

"I'll be in the hallway." Freddie said to Spencer, more than me. Spencer had his back to us, but I could tell he was not intimidated or upset by that comment.

"Alright."

I waited until Freddie was gone until I stepped towards Spencer and the kitchen table. He turned his eyes to me, and they locked instantly. He was so calm, so self-assured, so in control it scared me. I started crying again instantly, and slumped down on a chair, laying my head on my arms.

I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I was not scared of him. In fact, I lept up and threw my arms around him. He kissed the top of my head and stroked my hair, "It's alright. No harm is going to come to you."

I held him as tight as I could, "Where are you going?"

"To San Deigo."

"I can't go with you?"

"No." he said, rocking me back and forth, "I'm sorry."

"Who am I?" I asked, "Or, was I?"

"So, you don't really remember?"

"No."

"But you have seen the photographs?"

"Yes."

He let me go, but I still clung to his arm, and togther he had walked to where the photographs had been hidden. He took a handful of them, and sat down by the computer. I was a little confused and shocked when he went strait to facebook, and searched the name Drake Parker. It took a while searching, but eventually he found the face that matched the one in the photographs.

"This is your real brother." Spencer told me, "Drake Parker. He has not updated his facebook in two years. I wonder if he even looks at this account. But here, this is the three of you. Josh Nicholes. Megan Parker."

Another cold slap in the face. Drake had called me Megan. Once agian, the evidence was staring me strait in the face. 'M-megan?" I asked, "My name was Megan?"

"Yes... It's not coming back, is it?"

In the picture, I was holding a lazer. Spencer held me to him as I trembled, "What is that?" I asked, pointing to it.

"That?" he asked with a rueful laugh, "Was the cause of all this trouble."

* * *

I should probably be a good neighbor and explain some of those references for those of you unfamiliar with Drake and Josh... But that would involve going back and reading the chapter, so let's just work with what I remember.

The Premier Vest: through out the show, the character of Crazy Steve (Spencer) is only shown wearing his work uniform.

Drew and Jerry: a show with in a show.

Yes, Drake and Josh _do_ kiss in the episode "Josh Runs Over Oprah." And Megan does take a photograph of it, she even puts it on the internet!

-speaking of guys kissing, anyone see that HAWT lip lock between Robert and Taylor at the MTV awards? Man, that was funny!

Yeah, until next time! All three of you that actually read this fic...


	5. Chapter 5

iTanglewiththeCIA.

(Disclaimed.)

The captcha? When I logged in to post this? It gave me a word _upside down._ I was completely clueless as to whether I should type the word backwards or normal.

I typed it normal.

It laughed at me.

I don't really like captchas...

* * *

Chapter five: i Go Back

Sam and Carly were clinging to me in the morning. I knew Carly would be there, because she had been too shaken to sleep alone, even if I told her several time it really was not right. Besides, she knew no matter how many times I preached morality and 'not biologicaly your brother' I really did not mind having her hold my arm all night. Neither did she, apparently, nor did Sam.

My fingers were asleep.

Well, this was certainly a bit of a pickle. I managed to slip free, but of course Carly woke up and tried to pull me back,"Where are you going?"

'I told you.' I said, 'San Deigo. I'm going to miss my flight if you don't stop clinging."

She let go. Sam, upon finging her hands were empty, tossed and started hugging the pillow, 'Can I please come with you?"

"No." This was something I wanted to do without her around. Besides, if any one in San Diego saw her, the news would definantly make the paper, and the CIA would be on our tail faster than we could turn around. I could not take that risk, no matter how carefully she disguised herself. I understood that she wanted to go, and I even knew how she felt. Even I was exited to return to the city I had called home and had been forced to leave. "Sorry."

"What will happen now?" she asked me, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

I sighed. She had asked that last night, and I had explained it to her at least twice. I was not going to bother again. She was just asking because she enjoyed hearing that everything was going to turnout alright in the end, at least a little bit. I shut my bathroom door behind me. I heard her stand up and leave, and assumed she was going to start the coffee.

Sam was still asleep when I emerged from the shower again (fully dressed, of course. I knew her tricks!) and I tried to wake her up one more time. She did not budge.

Freddie was in the kitchen with Carly when I came in, and from the look on his face, she was in the process of explaining things to him. He looked at me, his face a mix of confusion, anger and gratitude. I grabbed my coffee and stared back. He waited for her to finish, but I was certain he was only half-listening. The rest of his attention (perhaps most of it) was directed at me. "What were you doing by the school?"

"I don't really remember." I answered, "Maybe I was jogging."

"At two in the morning?"

"Hey, I was crazy, right?" I shrugged, "Something just told me to head there."

"Why were you crazy?" Freddie demanded.

Why on Earth was he getting so upset with me? Perhaps it was because he was jealous that he had not known, and he suspected Sam had. Perhaps, like Sam, he was angry that his vote in Megan's fate was left uncounted. But, to be fair, he should not be demanding to know that answer to forcefully. I had never told anyone why I went mad.

Partly because it scared me to think about. It brought back painful memories. Partly because not even I really knew what caused it, and it confused everyone, because I clearly was slightly more sane now than I was then. How did that happen? Insanity was not really something one could cure.

I looked at my little sister. What should I call her? Carly or Megan? She was in a grey area now. Her identity was probably in the air, even to herself. She was handleing it quite well. Still, the question was an important one that I needed to clear up.

"What should we call you now?" I asked, "Megan or Carly?"

Freddie looked at her, he said nothing, but I knew he was pleanding for her to say Carly. Sam would probably do the same. She frowned and seemed to think, I wondered what she was pondering. Probably reasons. Carly was not legally her name. It was someone else's name entirely. But she did not really feel like Megan. If she heard that name too much, would it jeprodise her chances of regaining her memories?

"Call me Carly." she shrugged, "For now."

Freddie's face broke into a smile. Carly did not notice, instead, she looked strait at me, "Can I see you off?"

"No." I said, "Please, stay here."

She was not content with that answer. I could tell because she crossed her arms and glared at me. Then, in an attempt to make me change my mind Freddie tried the veiled threat, "Spencer... if the CIA wants her... Megan, that is... Why are you both so close to the navy? I mean, your Dad and Uncle Morgan..."

"I know." I confessed, "But right now, Carly holds nothing of value to them. She's not as smart as Megan. So long as they think she's of no use, they won't take the chance."

"Are you sure?" Freddie asked. He was still angry with me. Why was he so angry? I was about to set things right.

"If they had wanted too, they would have done so by now." I said, "But if they do come here, escape, obviously, and call Socko. He knows what to do."

"What?"

"It's a secret." I grinned, they both frowned. "What?" I asked, "We're taking a few risks, you know. I checked the place for bugs, but still, I could have easily missed one."

"How throughly did you check?" Freddie demanded.

"Pretty through." I said defensively, "If you want to check again, be my guest!"

Freddie looked down at the floor, his anger was gone. Carly laid her hand on his, "Anyway, you two come with me. There is something I need to show you."

"What?"

I walked away. Carly and Freddie stood up and followed me to my bedroom, when I was knealing down beside the bed. I pulled out a locked box, "I got these a few weeks ago. I know you aren't familiar with them, and practicing in the apartment is not an option, but they should be a little help to you."

I unlocked it and opened the box. Inside it were four military issue pistols I had gotten illegally from Socko. Technically, two of them were a present for Sam, because after all of this was over, she deserved the high-quality firearms she longed for, and I knew she knew how to use them. Two of the others were just meant for Carly and Freddie, who, dispite good intentions, were more of a hinderance. Hopefully, they would only use theirs for close range self-defence.

Carly screamed and jumped back, as I lifted the smallest one. I knew she could not handle much weight, or take the risk of shooting a not-so-fatal-after-about-twenty feet bullet. She might accidentally hit Sam, and then all three of them would be screwed. "Spencer!"

The color drained from Freddie's face as I placed one of the guns into his hand, "Now, be careful with these, you two. Sam is the main force here, so when trouble comes, I want Freddie to watch her back. Carly, that gun is for self defence only, and it works best at close range. If you get separated from the other two, keep your back to a wall and use your shots wisely."

"S-spen... Spencer!" she stammered, staring at it and holding it like it was some sort of demon baby, "I can't use this."

"Where do we aim?" I asked.

"_Spencer!_" she said scoldingly.

"The chest."

"Freddie!" she shouted in shock.

"How do we load these?"

With out much hesitation, Freddie snapped the cartridge out and then back in. He cocked the gun and then aimed it. I was shocked, and wondered were he had gotten the chance to learn how to handle a gun. Perhaps a crazy uncle I had never met, and probably never would. I was certain I would never know, and I was not about to ask, because I was secretly terrified that the answer would be 'self taught' and I would _not_ feel any better. Carly whimpered and covered her ears, fearing he would actually shoot.

"How is you aim?"

"Pretty good." he said, "Probably not as good as Sam."

"That's okay." came a groggy voice from above us, "Momma brought her bullet-proof vest."

I smiled. It was good that Sam came prepared. She sat up and stretched, "So, should we expect to use these the second you leave?"

Freddie made the gun slightly less lethal again by uncocking it and setting it down. Sam tied back her hair and lifted up the remaining two guns, "For me?"

"Yes."

"I assume they are stolen."

"Somewhere along the line, yes. Sold in the black market, then given to me."

"Sweet."

Carly just stared, mortified at the three of us. Sam looked at her, then shrugged, "I'm going to get ready now. Which reminds me, I brough a present for Freddie."

"Huh?"

"Look in my duffle."

Freddie looked at Carly, then to me, and finally to Sam's belongings, which lay in the corner of the room. He dug through her clothes (and the armored vest) then shouted in a strange kind of geekish delight. Carly nearly fained as we heard steel scraping steel, I stared at Sam, shocked, as a light-weight sword glinted in the light. It was not the thin fencing foil Freddie was accustomed to (this one could actually do some damage). It was heavier, but as Freddie casually tossed it from one hand to the other, I assumed it was not too heavy.

"That's a deadly weapon!" I said.

"So is a gun." Sam crossed her arms and frowned at me, "Looks like the only ill-equipped one is you."

"You can't bring a sword to a gun fight!" Carly said, "Freddie, stop tossing that thing around!"

"This is so cool!" Freddie said, slashing the air, "I don't know much about swords, but... Where did you even get this?"

"Internet." she shrugged, "I used Spencer's card."

"You _what_?" I demanded, "You did not just use _my_ card to buy him something he could kill himself on?"

"I suggest that we all move to my house." Sam said, "Guns and all. Freddie, go tell your mother she needs to take a long vacation in a neutral country. I recommend Yudonia. It's nice this time of year. Explain how ever you feel like it, just get it done. Carly and I will get ready as fast as we can. Spencer, if you don't leave soon, you will miss your plane."

She was right. I grabbed my case, and scooped up the box I was going to carry on the plane with me. I kissed Carly's hair again and walked out the door. Freddie followed me, his sword in hand, still examineing the workmanship. His mother was waiting for me, "Freddie, why are you holding a sword?"

"It's a long story, Mom." he said, "Come on, I'll explain..."

He took her arm and started at the very beginning, "When Carly and Spencer first came here, it was because they had both run into trouble in San Deigo..."

The door shut behind them.

I walked down to the lobby, where Lewbert was waiting by the door. I would never forget how good he had been to us. He had not had to let us in when I stumbled in that one night. He did not have to give me the key and ask no questions. He knew what it was like to keep secrets locked away. "You finally going back?"

"Yes. I am."

* * *

San Deigo had not changed much in the two years I had been away. After leaving the plane and grabbing my luggage (that box had never left my hands) I rented a car and reserved a room in a cheap motel. I might be here for a while, I might just catch a flight back to Seattle in an hour or so. It all depended on what happened.

First, I drove by the place I had once lived. Others had moved in, and it looked like they had fixed the place up.

They had just ended repairs on the distroyed wing of the highschool, but if you went inside you could still see some damage. And there was a momorial just out side for Megan, Drake, and Josh. They were not listed as dead, but missing. The distant residents of San Deigo still believed that Drake, Josh and Megan were out there, somewhere.

I was glad to know that they were right.

I could even look back from the memorial and see the very place I had hidden with Megan Parker at my feet, watching CIA agents kicking through the rubble and saying to themselves that she had been blown away; that there was no body to find.

If I stood in the same place I had stood two years ago, I could remember the sound of Drake's screams for his sister echoing down the alley way. I could feel the weight of my sister in my arms.

"Soon." I mumbled looking up at the sky, "I'll set things right again."

Because there were a lot of things crammed into the corners of dark places. Where, hopefully I would never see them and Carly... Megan... would not find them. I was guilty about a lot of things. Those things. The running. The shouting.

It all came back and meshed together in my mind until I could see everything that had happened projected on that alley's wall. I could hear it, see it, but I could only remember those things. Colors. Noises. They surfaced in my warped scluptures. That twisted reality I had drawn around myself in a cluttered rented house.

I remembered Carly. The real Carly. The Carly I did not freely give away. The Carly _they_ wrenched from my hands.

And I remembered Megan. The Megan that became a specter out of the corner of my crazed eyes, searching for something, anything, to bring me back to reality.

I had never intentionally kidnapped her, after all. I had just sort of happened.

The second my little sister was gone, to the moment I held her replacement in my hands, was foggy and lost. In was one night were I was plunged into darkness and I could no longer hear my little sister's heartbeat.

I had never worked under the illusion that the two were the same. They were diffrent, they did not even look the same, they had always been diffrent to me. I knew the diffrence between Carly Shay and Megan Parker.

There were a great many thing I had to set right.

The house that the Parkers and the Nicholes had once lived in was still abanonded. After what happened to them, I suppose they figured the place got cursed some how. Had anyone made the connection? That Crazy Steve had left the city when the Parkers and Nicholes had?

Or had they not made any connection at all? I suppose not. No one would group him with thoes two.

The next place I went was, obviously, the Premeire. Hopefully, Hellen was still working there. She had owned the place for years. I was skeptical she would ever give it up. It was difficult to find parking. I had remembered that from the past. There was another memorial for Drake and Josh. I did not really mind that I was not featured in any memorial, or even a wanted poster.

The must have just assumed I had left just as suddenly and as madly as I had arrived. I looked down at my feet. The stains on the carpet had gotten worse with out me to actually focus on taking them out.

I looked around. There were Craig and Eric. I looked around for another familiar face. I saw least three girls Drake had taken to the Premiere before. There was Gavin, I think. Some of the kids Drake had once been in a band with were just walking out of a movie. There, by the candy bar, was a host of girls that had once gone to movies with Megan.

I senced that if her name was shouted, or even whispered, people would start asking questions, and a quite, sad air would suffocate the place.

I walked up to the counter in the center of the Premeire. There was a girl working there, who I seemed to remember. A few inches shorter than me, with dark hair. Most people assumed she was chinese, but I seemed to recal her being of Korean decent. Or maybe Malasian. Then again, who was I to know? I hardly rememerbed. I could not even reacall her name.

I set the box down and told her, "I need to see the management."

"Who are you?" she asked, squinting.

I started to introduce myself while I took off my sunglasses, but before I could even get "Spencer" out of my mouth she had screamed and flead the scene, making people stare. Why had she done that? I set the sunglasses down and tried to get some explanation from another employee, but I caught sight of myself in the reflective glass that covered the candy display.

"That's right, Spence..." I mumbled to myself, rubbing my neck and sighing, "You're a madman here, not a lady's man."

I do not remember much about life in San Deigo. I am glad about that. Unfortunately, she must have remembered me as Crazy Steve, not Spencer, or a stranger.

Leah! That was her name! Leah! I laughed a bit. She had been terribly frightened of me... I-I mean, I must have scared the poor girl half to death, turning up so suddenly. And she must have been pretty afraid of me to recognise me so fast. I really had to commend her memory... or her instincts.

"Damn, I had better go appoligize..." I picked up the box and turned around, nearly running right into Helen. Just the person I wanted to see, really, "Oh, Helen, we need to talk."

"Who are you?"

"It's me... I mean, not really me... It's nice to see you again." I shifted the weight of the box in my arm and extended my hand to her, "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused."

"Trouble?"

"You don't recognize me?"

She frowned, "Crazy Steve?"

"That's right."

"Why...?"

"Let's discuss this in your office." I said, trying to sound as sane as possible. She would probably flip soon. When Leah had run out screaming, I had caused enough of a scene. Heads were just starting to turn away again.

With a stiff posture and unchanging expression she lead me to her office and sat down at her desk. When she turned to me again, she asked, "Why are you back in San Deigo? Where is Drake?"

I set the box down on her desk, "Could you keep that for me?"

"What is in it?"

"A photo album." I said, "And three letters. I am not sure who will show up, Drake, maybe Josh. When they do come, they will ask about Megan."

"Where is that little girl?"

I smiled a little. Helen seemed genuinely worried. It was good to see that people in San Diego really did still care. "She's safe."

"Is she with you?"

"Not at the moment, no." I told her, "But she is safe. When they ask about her, please, give them this. It has all the answers."

"Answers to what?" she asked me, shaking her head, "Crazy Steve—"

"It's Spencer." I said, "Spencer Shay."

"What is going on? I though they were dead, and now you are telling me they are all alive? Where?"

"Alive, yes." I said, "I suspect Drake and Josh are not in this country. Megan is at a safe location, there is no need to worry about her. They will all be together again soon."

"Why did they leave? Why did you leave?"

"We had to." I told her, "That laser Megan and Josh made. I know you remember it. They showcased it here once. The government came for it, and the three of them were separated when a bomb went off in the school. This is all familiar to you, yes? The bodies were never found. If you remember, did I not dissapear that same night?"

"You... You did..." she nodded. I could tell by the frown on my face she did not exactly believe me completely. Understandable. Even coming from the mouth of a man that had always been sane, it was fairly hard to believe. "So, you had Megan?"

"Yes."

Naturally, she leapt up, shouting. "What did you do with her?"

"Megan is just as safe today as she was with her real family." I said reassuringly, "You have nothing to worry about.'

"How can I know for sure?"

I sighed. I could not really blame her for her concern. In this part of the country, I was not exactly known for my responsibility and charity. I took Helen's office phone and dialed Carly's cellphone number. I handed it back to her, and she waited a long while until I heard Carly's voice faintly.

"Hello?"

"Megan?" Helen asked, "Megan Parker?"

"... Who is this?"

"This is Helen." she said, "You don't remember me?"

"No. Not really."

"H-how are you?"

"I'm fine."

"H-has Cra... I mean, Spencer... How does he treat you?"

She laughed, "Oh! You're _that_ Helen? He suspected you might get worried... He's been nothing but kind to me, you know. He's not the kid you once knew."

"Did you really forget everything?"

"Sort of... Is Spencer there?"

"No. You can be completely honest."

I smiled and shook my head. Carly laughed again, "Oh, that's too bad. I've got news for him."

"What news?"

"I figured out how to work this damn thing!" Helen and I both jumped as a shot was fired on the other side of the line, "I still hate guns, though. Anyway, he's got no need to worry. My aim's great."

"R-really now?"

"I've hit the bulls eye twice!" she said, "He'd be so proud. And he knows me so well... this little thing is perfect for me! Oh, and Sam accidentally over-drafted when she bought Freddie that sword, so he should be really careful about using his card."

"That little brat!" I could not help but shout. Helen jumped, probably afraid for her life, because I reached for her. However, it was only to snatch the phone away from her.

"Carly, tell her she owes me!"

"Oh, Spencer, you are there!" she said, "Sure, I'll tell her. And Freddie's mom left the country a while ago, so you do not have to worry about her either. Almost took him with her! Okay?"

"I got it."

"When will you come home?" she asked, "I'm worried about you."

"I've got... one more thing to do."

"What?" Helen asked me, "What is it?"

"I... think I need to appoligise to some one."

"Spencer!" Carly exclaimed, "What did you do?"

"I... don't exactally remember." I confessed, "Anyway, Helen, talk to her as long as you like. I am leaving."

I handed the phone back to Helen, who started asking Carly a million questions about everything. I watched for a little bit, then put my sunglasses back on and looked around for Leah. Which way had she run off too? How on earth would I find her again?

And why was she so scared of me, anyway?

And if she had been so good a recognizeing me, why were the others not? Was I really that forgettable to the rest of them?

Oh, well. Perhpas I should just go back to the motel and wait for my flight tomorrow afternoon.

No. I could not have Leah afraid of me forever. Even if I never was going to return to San Deigo, constantly living in fear was no a good thing. I should know. I mean, look what it did to me. The Premiere did not always need a crazy employee.

I waited in a corner, hopeing that if she poked her head out again, she would not notice me. It was not a long wait, thankfully, because she came out of hiding soon enough. I wondered, had she always hidden in the theaters, or had she chosen a diffrent location every time.

Strange what a diffrence sunglasses made. She walked right by me and did not seem to notice me at all. You'd think I would be the first person she saw, she was so attune to my presence. Should I bother her again? Was twice in one day too much? I would be going back to Seattle tomorrow, though.

"Leah."

She turned around sharply, like a rabbit frozen in head lights. She looked like she really wanted to scream and run, but something kept her. (Possibly her reflextion on my sunglasses?) I did not even have to ask her to come over, she just did. Like an inmate walking to his death.

"What is it?"

"Talk to me, for just a moment."

"I'm working."

"Helen will understand."

* * *

Oh, yeah, this is a MAJOR candidate for a re-write. Eventually. When I feel like it. If I feel like it.

Well, okay, at least its passible, which is good, even my worst stuff is "passable."


	6. Chapter 6

iTanglewiththeCIA

(Disclaimed.)

This is the last update on this story. I'm sorry. I've become far more acquainted with the iCarly cannon, and so I am going to be re-writing this later. Much later. Ages later. But I will do it. I keep my word

* * *

Chapter six: Yudonia.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I was actually in Yobonia."

"_Yudonia!_" Josh hissed at me.

"Whatever." I said as the humid rain poured down and Josh and I walked towards the Parker-Nicoles hotel, "I just hope all of this goes smoothly."

"It will." Josh assured me, "You're Drew Bell. I'm Jerry Peck. No one will recognize me, let alone you, as Drake Parker and Josh Nicholes. The names are so plain and obvious."

I hoped he was right. After all, I trusted our parents and I trusted Josh. This plan had been executed well once so far. Once a year we met and managed to talk with everyone we had once known. So far, it had gone well. Yudonia was peaceful, and so the airport was easy to slip out of. The Parker-Nicholes Hotel of Yudonia's capital city was having its grand opening, so of course the hotel's founders, Mom and Walter, would be there for the gala and art auction.

It had been a long time since I last wore a tuxedo. It had been a long time since I had to hide the scars, and it had been hard not to get into a fight.

It was easy to hide the gun in my jacket, though. And knives in my shoes and a smoke bombs in my pockets.

Was I over prepared? Maybe, but when your partner was the peaceful one, it never hurt to have an explosive watch and a cynide tablet in your tie. And pepper spray.

And when you did not want to lose that partner, there was no expense too much and no risk too great. Josh was everything to me. I would not lose him like I lost Megan. I could not let Mom and Walter grieve over their once great son. I was my fault he had fallen. It was my responsibility to see him redeemed, or at least dead peacefully.

Josh and I would enter that party seperatly. We would enter as strangers and only spare a few mingling words to one another. We slept in two separate rooms, Josh usually slept with Mindy, rooms or even floors away. I slept alone.

It hurt to think about, to watch him, pretend he was a stranger, pretend my parents were strangers, and sit alone. Dark thoughts easily came. Megan had died in a firey explosion after I had forced her to run away. It was my fault she was gone, and I had yet to avenge her death. If I had never suggested Josh attempt to bond with Megan, we would never be here.

"Cheer up, Drake." Josh told me just before he left me standing a block away from the hotel. "Nothing bad will happen."

And he was probably right. Yudonia was so peaceful! Even the security let us walk right through. Perhaps it was because Josh looked so respectable, and me, though scarred, looked harmless.

Or perhaps people were just nice. I left my suitecase with a bellhop and he did not stare at my scar suspitiously, or even raise an eyebrow when I handed him my reservation ticket. I was used to being hindered.

I saw Mom first. She looked herself. She looked lovely. She saw me, too, and gave just a little nod in my direction. The kind of nod that could have been to anyone.

Josh was with Mindy. She also looked lovely, I had to admit. Mindy, though mean and evil, was pretty. I was jealous, because she could make him happy. She and he got to meet for the first time once a year, and the joy he got for seeing her that one time kept him smiling for days.

Sometimes I felt like I only made him worry.

I never thought I would actually be in Yudonia.

I do not know why, but I thought of Yooka. Maybe it was because during times like these I was jealous and sad because the only person I looked forward to meeting was my mother. Josh had Mindy, Mom _and_ Walter, and once he even had Craig and Eric. I just had mom. I had never gone steady with any one for long enough.

During these times I would sit alone, watching Josh and Mindy and I could see the chemistry between them. Mom and Walter could only say so much. If they were see saying anything affectonate to me or Josh, the gig would be up and the chips would be down.

Even if I felt the cold stab of living in exile the most at times like these, I could not take Josh's time with Mindy away. Even if he was really all I had in this world.

I could sit and miss Megan and watch Mom and Walter greet business investors and famous people from all over the world. I could envy Mindy for Josh, and Josh for having some one he could spend the night with, and hate myself for having so many flings none of them were special.

For once, I grinned a little bit. It was starting to look like, Yooka was the only girl I would _actually _be married too. And that was an accident. A horrible, horrible accident.

And here I was, in my ex-wife's home country, as lonely as I could possibly be.

"Do I... know you?"

Speak of the she-devil!

I looked up and she recoiled a bit. The scars on my face did that; it was the story of my life after losing Megan. She sighed, "No, I suppose not... You just look familiar."

I grinned a little more, "You look like my ex-wife."

She seemed to reach a slightly awkward realisation and then come to terms with it. She giggled, "That's funny, you look like my ex-husband."

"Really?" I asked, I think she understood. Well, she understood flirting, at least, "How long ago did you marry this ex?"

"A while back." she said, "How long did you stay together?"

"No too long. I bet your father had a fit, where is he?"

"Gone." she confessed, sitting down beside her. I noticed that it actually was supposed to be her seat. Josh was too my left, Mindy was probably on the other side of him. It felt good to be at my brother's right hand.

Yooka stared at me intently, her eyes drilling strait into mine, but she was still smiling. I was smiling. Smiling like I had not smiled in a long time. The fun was taken out of love when you worked with drug cartels and murder bunisesses. You got a bitch, if you were lucky you got a moll. But mostly you got unpeasant diseases that Josh and I strived to stay away from. You got nothing worthwhile.

"You ever get a chance to replace him?"

She shook her head, her eyes looking into the distance. "I assume you did, though?" she asked glumly. I saw she was looking at Josh and Mindy, who had just discovered each other by an ice scupture of two swans, their necks forming a heart.

It was quite a kodak moment.

"Not really." I told her.

I watched Josh, and my jealousy had eased just a tiny bit. Not too much, but the edge was gone. The stab of exile was not so difficult to bare. Perhaps it was just that peaceful Yudonian air. Perhaps it was all in my head.

I looked at Yooka. I think she understood, because she looked at me, then started giggling. I laughed too, because she was quite pretty when she laughed. After that, we could not help but start laughing uncontrolably. I was glad she understood, or maybe Mom had invited her and told her, knowing full well I would be there. I never had been good a keeping secrets.

Josh looked over to me, and for once I think he was the jealous one. Or at least bewildered. Or maybe he was glad I could be my old womanizing self for once.

I'm probably the only man in the world that was this glad to see his ex-wife of uncomfortable circumstances.

"It was kind of hard to because of the scars."

"I figured as much." she told me, "Audrey invited me."

I looked over to Mom, who was casually passing a glance our way, then back to Yooka.

"She hates to see you alone on these nights."

That meant Mom had noticed how I stood apart from the crowd and watched Josh. I stuck out like a sore thumb, a big, moping sore thumb. I was glad she had. Perhaps she had chosen to have the newest hotel in Yudonia just so she could find and invite my ex-wife.

"Mindy has brought Josh to the art display." Yooka took my hand, "Come, there is a painting you will be interested in."

"I never understood art."

"This one is very easy to understand." she told me, "I insist you come. For me."

I looked at Josh and Mindy. Sure enough, they were walking off to an ajoining room, which would one day be a conference room, but was currently an art exhibit. Yooka gave my wrist another sharp tug (and found the smoke bomb, clever girl!) and I gave in, even though I really hated looking at art.

She hurried along until we were only a few feet behind Josh. Mindy passed a casual glance back, then both she and Yooka screamed. On instinct, I turned around reaching for my gun, only to see that Mindy and Yooka were only acting out the roles Mom and Walter had asigned to them.

After the screaming came two kisses on the cheek from Yooka and a hug from Mindy, then some false chattering of college and childhood, until they 'introduced' Josh and I to each other.

"I told you not to bring that gun along." Josh hissed.

"Sorry." I said, "Old habits."

He was almost always upset with me. Yooka took my hand again, then slipped her arm around Mindy's waist, the part of best friend still being played. She and Mindy lead us too the painting they had told us about, then let us stand, dumbstruck, infront of it.

"Megan!" we exclaimed at the same time, softly, though, so no one would hear us.

And it was unmistakeably Megan. She was all I could see at first. She was all I wanted to see, but then I saw the Premiere, then I saw Helen with a movie projector. After that I saw the ruins of the school. I looked back at Helen, and the movie projector revealed itself to be a heavily shadowed lazer.

But it was Megan!

"Where did you get this?" Josh asked.

"It was mailed to the hotel two days ago, adressed to Walter and Audrey personally. When they saw it, they knew it could not just be coincidence." Mindy whispered to him, "The one who painted this wants Megan to be found."

"Unless its a lie." Josh muttered.

"It's not!" I insisted, "It can't be. Who painted it?"

"See for yourself." Mindy pointed at the lower right corner. Scrawled there in white, was a peculiar name indeed.

"Crazy Steve." Josh and I whispered at the same time.

Our reactions were diffrent. Josh remained completely calm. I was furious. My little sister, with that madman? How dare he? If any harm had ever come to her at his hands, I would kill him. It was my duty... It should be my right!

"Drake, don't get so mad." Josh whispered, "It makes you look suspicious."

I glared at him for a minute. I wanted to head down to San Diego this minute and shoot Crazy Steve at least seven times.

But then I knew he was right. More people were drifting into the art room now, and it was no moment for anger. It was a moment for quietly drifting along so no one would suspect anything.

I let Yooka and Mindy lead Josh and I out of the art room at a pace that made us look like were were examining each painting. Josh and Mindy were, I could not keep that serene image of Megan out of my head. I do not really know what Yooka was doing. One moment she was trying to bring me out of my anger, the next she had given up and was critiquing with Josh and Mindy.

But I'm glad she was there. If nothing else she was an excuse to be closer to Josh that night. She was a reason to not be so lonely.

I could not be happy that Megan was alive if she was with Crazy Steve. I would probably never be happy until she was safe with Josh and me.

But, they would look for her again. They had the lazer, they needed Megan or Josh to make it work, then what ever they needed it for, they could acomplish. They would not stop just because Josh and I found her; their efforts would probably double. Would our family ever be one again? Would we ever get to live normally?

For at least a year Josh and I had worked under the impression that our dallying in crime was only temporary, one day we would be able to emerge back into the world. But thoes government dogs kept returning and ruined that dream. Now the only time in the real world we got was once a year, when another Parker-Nicholes hotel opened and two invitations mysteriously appeared in our midst.

I could not take my eyes off Yooka, from the first course to dessert, Josh and Mindy talked about the past with veiled clues. Things it hurt me to hear, things I did not care to understand.

Yooka and I simply stared at one another. She was still pretty. She was still rich, too, I think.

I felt so shallow then. I loved Josh because he was important to me. I wanted Yooka because she was pretty and wealthy. I suppose she was nice, too, and I could easily like her personality, but I was not really interested in her personality. I was just interested in thoes lips, and in easing the loneliness that would haunt me while Josh was with Mindy and I had only a note from my mother to keep me occupied.

I had not had anyone else for so long.

Josh went to Mindy's room when the party started to disperse. I told Yooka good night, and left her as well. She frowned as I walked away, but after a short few seconds she started following me. Gradually, she caught up with me.

"Drake." she whispered. It felt good to hear her use my real name. I always hated the name Drew, even before Josh used a Drew to replace me, "Let me come with you."

"Why?"

"Just to talk." she said, "Audrey hates to think of you alone."

Well... What was the harm? _Josh _was doing the same thing, no?

"Oh, alright. You want to get your things out of... Where ever they are?"

She nodded.

"Room one seventeen."

Then she left and I headed to the hotel room. This sort of thing was done before the wedding, not after the anullment. Oh well. I took off my jacket and took the knives out of my shoes. I laid them where Yooka could see them; not as a warning, just as a way of informing her. She probably would be glad she knew.

I took the gun out. Besides, it was good to have weapons where I could reach them. Josh and I could be found out. It was necessary that I be prepared at any time for anything.

Josh had his own gun, too. I was not really worried now.

Yooka's eyes went strait for that gun, and she frowned at bit. Maybe she was not happy to find out. Too late now, though. "How long will you be staying?"

"Three days. That's how long Josh normally stays with Mindy."

I saw I must have placed her in a bit of a predicament. By no means would the Yudonian heiress want to sit anywhere near a gun, however sitting on the bed — even that of her ex-husband — would be uncomfortable and awkward. I oblidged her and picked the gun up.

She sat down at the table after that.

"You said your father was gone... What did you mean?"

I was absent mindedly fiddleing with the lock. It made her nevous, but I did not set it down agian. I suppose I always will be a subcontious jerk. "He died of a heart faliure some time ago."

"Oh."

All that money could really help Josh and I find Megan and get another normal life.

"How have you been, Drake?" she asked me, "I'm not just talking about what happened after Megan. I'm talking about... anything."

Touchy subject. She was suddenly a stranger to me. I had never seen her before in my life. I did not know her name and I did not care to learn it.

"I don't really want you in here." I confessed quickly, "I don't mean to be rude, bit it is a bit risky."

She stared at the wall, and I watched her, tracing a scratch on the barrel of the gun. She was still uneasy, and it did not help that her drape kept slipping from her shoulder. She had something to say, was was trying to find the right way to phrase it, I believe.

"I think Josh will stay for a few more weeks than planed." she told me.

My hand stopped, "Why?"

"Mindy had his baby three months ago."

That hurt. That _hurt,_ and she knew it had, too. But, she did not look like she had enjoyed telling me. She looked a bit scared, too, "It's risky, don't you think? I told her she should... wait a bit. But she insisted she keep it. Her... Insisted she keep _her._"

"That's why your here, to tell me that?"

"Don't be jealous." she said, "Don't be angry. I just though you should know. Josh does."

I thought about hitting her, telling her Mom just hired her like a common whore and throwing her out, but she just stared sympathetically at me and frowned a bit. I just could not be so mean as to shoot the messenger.

But I could not be glad I was an uncle, simply angry I was loosing Josh to Mindy. But it was not Mindy's fault. It was not Josh's fault either. I suppose it was mine, deep down. I should know Josh did not feel the way about me that I did about him.

To Josh, we were brothers. And it was true, we were closer than most step-brothers, I suppose. We were probably closer than blood-relations.

To me, that was not enough. I loved him, more than I would love just a brother.

I was angry because Crazy Steve had Megan.

I was jealous because Mindy had Josh.

And the only revenge I could get was dragging Josh away from his first born child.

How was I so cruel?

Yooka stood up and laid her hands on my shoulders, "Drake, you know America has no presence in Yudonia. Go get Megan, and return here. It's nice here, peaceful... It's a little humid sometimes, but I can help you and Josh start any business you want... get your names changed... buy what ever silence you need."

Wasn't she just the sweetest ex-wife in the world?

"That would be nice, actually." I said, smiling. I did not even have to ask for a new life, "But I don't think..."

I started crying. Yooka held my head to her shoulder. I guess it was so many things happening at once. The life Josh gave up because of my stupidity, how sacrifice for me was the story of his life. How I had spent weeks prepareing for three days of cold solitude, and now I was not alone. How Megan was alive. How I was an uncle, and Josh was a father and we lived so secretly that we just now found out, three months after the fact.

Josh must be so happy. He must be dreading leaving Yudonia, because it would be a full year until he heard knews of his kid. That child could die, and he would not be there to comfort Mindy. He could not be there. Because of me.

"I know." she told me, "I know."

"No you don't!" I told her, "Josh has so many friends that he can trust. I don't. I never would have thought to ask you to come... I thought you hated me."

"Why would I do that?"

"I'm an idiot."

She could not say anything back to that. Just, "I know."

I could remember why I had kept spending time with Yooka — more time than Josh had — she had such a lovely smile, and the purfume she wore was a nice, dependable one that every one liked.

"It's been a long time since... I had anyone besides Josh."

"I know."

The rain was getting worse outside. What was the weather like in San Deigo? Was Megan there, or had Crazy Steve dragged her somewhere else, only to lead Josh and I on a wild goose chase until we reached a dead end and found her body?

Yooka traced Megan's scar, but she did not ask where it came from. I laid my hands on her waist.

"It's been... a long time since, a lot of things."

"I know." she whipsered.

The drape fell from her shoulder again. She reached between us to bring it back to its proper place, but I stopped her hand at her shoulder and brushed it down agian, then I unpinned it where it rested at her other shoulder.

I do not know why I felt the way I did. Josh was more important to me than she was. He was a great deal more important. Maybe it was just the anger and jealousy kicking in. Maybe it was because I had not really had any luck with a girl in two years. Yooka was just a girl to try, just like the others had been.

Was that it?

I felt so shallow.

Even if it was all she had ever been before. But I suppose she would stop me if I was doing anything she did not content to, right? I cast the scarf aside.

"This is not necessary." she told me, her hands stopping at my neck and the center of Megan's scar, "Don't force yourself."

"I'm not."

* * *

There was a soft knock in the door. Yooka did not hear it, but I had. I got up and pulled on the dress slacks I had worn before, then I grabbed the gun from where I had left it by the television.

The soft knock came again.

"What?" I whisperd to the door.

"It's Jerry." Josh's voice answered back, "I... want to stay for... a while longer than normal."

"Yooka told me you might."

"Drew, Mindy and I..."

"I know." I said, "Yooka told me."

"We'll be down in the city tomorrow. Come see us... She's beautiful, Drake. She's perfect."

"All parents say so." I whispered. Mom said it about me and Megan. Walter said it about Josh. I'm sure my Dad and his Mom said it, too, at one point. But look at us. We were not perfect. No one was. There were a million glaring scars reminding just how hurtful and imperfect people could be. She was going to suffer for our imperfections and she may even grow up with out a Dad. And if she did? Josh would be heartbroken to learn someone had taken his place.

"Go, before someone hears you."

He sounded hurt. "All right..."

I felt guilty for it, but I knew it had to be done. We had to be more careful now. For Mindy's safety, he and I should leave as soon as possible, not remain.

But I could not take Josh away from the little bit of normalcy he got.

Josh's footsteps retreated and I returned to the bed. Yooka was still asleep, her hair scattered over the pillow. I returned my head to her neck, torn between loneliness and attachment.

* * *

See that up there? That's what you call 'extremely well written dribble.' It's wordy, eloquent, descriptive, but the fact remains that it is Twilight-level worthless. God-tier crap.

There is so much wrong with it I cannot begin to put my finger on where I went wrong which is why I am going to do that re-write I keep talking about. Eventually. It's going to involve Missy. Missy the secret agent. That 'six month cruise?' A government ploy _meant_ to lure Megan out of hiding and convert her into a completely obedient cyborg that would make technology for the good ol' US of A.

But they got Missy. And they trained as an assassin. Then send her after Sam.

Also, Gibby is a Mermaid. Well, actually, he's an Atlantian Prince.

See? WORLDS better... for the handful of you that actually care.

'Til next we meet!

Cheddarbiscuit.


End file.
